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III 



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Class i 74- 

CoipgMN" 

COPVRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



Tn Old South l)aaky 



By Sophie E. Eastman 



// so men's memories not thy monument be, 
Thou shah hate none. Warm hearts. 
And not cold stone must mar\ thy grace, 
Or thou shah lie unknown. 

— John Vance Cheney, 



The Blakely Printing Company, Chicago 






Copyright, 1912, 

By 

SOPHIE E. EASTMAN 






To my sister, who has been my help 
and inspiration in collecting materials 
for the present volume, and whose pa- 
tient research has made possible the 
verification of its facts, this book '* 
affectionately dedicated. 



For the assistance rendered by Mr. 
A. W. Fiske, and other kind friends, in 
looking up ancient records and in re- 
calling past events, they merit and re- 
ceive my sincere gratitude. 



'y '///5 volume does not assume to be, in any 
sense, a history. The author has merely 
tried to gather up and preserve some of the facts 
and incidents connected with the Early Life of our 
town. This information was derived, in a great 
measure, from old Letters and Diaries; Account 
Booths ranging from 1732 to 1820; Town, Church 
and State Records; Ancient Deeds, IV ills and 
Inventories, and the too-often-forgotten Proprie- 
tor's Book.. 

The truth of every statement has been care- 
fully sifted, and some old manuscripts recently 
brought to light have yielded new and interesting 
facts. It is a matter of regret that many items 
which might have been of interest have necessarily 
been omitted for the lack of space. 



CHAPTER INDEX 

Page 

CHAPTER FIRST 

The Origin of the Town 1 

CHAPTER SECOND 
Early Life in South Hadley 21 

CHAPTER THIRD 
Early Life in South Hadley (Concluded) 35 

CHAPTER FOURTH 
From Dame School to College 48 

CHAPTER FIFTH 
From Dame School to College (Concluded) 70 

CHAPTER SIXTH 
The Evolution of a Church 94 

CHAPTER SEVENTH 
The Indians 121 

CHAPTER EIGHTH 
South Hadley in the Revolution 136 

CHAPTER NINTH 
South Hadley After the Revolution 165 

CHAPTER TENTH 
In the Chimney Comer 186 

CHAPTER ELEVENTH 
South Hadley Falls 201 



INDEX TO ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

South Hadley in 1750 Frontispiece-- 

The Angel of Hadley, 1675 6 '^ . 

In the Bow of Stony Brook 10 " 

Present View from "Bare Hill" 12 

Husking for a Neighbor 18 

"The Place of General Resort" 22 

The Noontide Meal 26 

Reading the Bible to the Haymakers 28 

The Gay lord Library 32 ^ 

The Pump 38 

The Old Oaken Bucket 40 ^ 

The Rudiments of Arithmetic 50 ', 

Teaching Arithmetic 54 ^ 

Woodbridge School 70 "^ 

Autograph of Mary Lyon 76 

Third Parsonage 78 

Prospect Hill 82 ' 

Mt. Holyoke Seminary, the Original Building 84 

The Domestic Hall 86 

Seminary and College Building, Destroyed by Fire, September, 1896 88 

Mary Lyon's Grave 92 " 

The First Parsonage 96 ' 

Rev. John Woodbridge 108 

Brick Oven 110 

Second Meeting House 116 '^ 

Third Meeting House 118 

The Oxbow 122 '^ 

Island in the Connecticut 124 

The Granby Church 128 '" 

The Drive 134 " 

Col. Ruggles Woodbridge 140 '^ 

The Second Parsonage 146 

Lake Nonotuck, South Hadley 154 

The Grove 164 

South Hadley in 1850 170 

Doctor D wight's House 176 

College Street 180 ^ 

Fourth Meeting House, Destroyed by Fire, 1895 184 ^ 

Perry at the foot of Mount Holyoke 188 

The First Meeting House, Now Used as a Dwelling 190 

The First Mountain House on Mount Holyoke 194 

"The Old Sleigh" 1S6 ' 

Pass of Thermopylae 198 '' 

The Franklin Stove 198 ^ 

Drawing in the Back-log 200 ' 

The Canal Village 202 */- 

Decoration Day at South Hadley Falls 220 

The Present Million-Dollar Dam, 214 "^ 

The Carew Mill 216 "^ 



v/ 



IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

BY SOPHIE E. EASTMAN 



CHAPTER FIRST 

THE OKIGIN OF THE TOWN 

CAESAR'S reply, when questioned in regard to Ms lineage, 
"I commence an ancestry," might well have been echoed 
by the pioneers of Hadley. Most of them were fugitives 
from England, fleeing to this country in order to escape the 
persecution of Archbishojo Laud. They had seen their friends 
imprisoned and publicly whipped in the market-place simply 
for seeking a higher standard of purity in the church. 

Part of them came in 1632 in the good ship Lyon. They 
were four weeks in fighting their way from London to Lands 
End, and two months more in crossing the stormy Atlantic. 
For five days they were enveloped in a dense fog, not daring 
to move in either direction; a weary time for the sixteen chil- 
dren and their seventy-three elders, who clustered despairingly 
about the deck. But happily they escaped disaster. The most 
notable among the passengers was William Goodwin, a man 
destined to become of such influence in both church and state 
that the town still delights to do him honor. 

During the following year more of Hadley 's early settlers 
came over in the Griffin, and the tedium of the two months ' voy- 
age was beguiled by listening to one hundred and twenty ser- 
mons, two being preached on each week-day and three on Sun- 
day. 

Among the passengers were three divines, eminent both 
for learning and piety — the Rev. John Cotton, Thomas Hooker, 
and Samuel Stone. Only the latter, however, dared to show 
himself on deck until they were well out at sea. 

The sailors did not enjoy this constant sermonizing, and 



2 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

sneeringly asked, "Wlien shall we come to ye Holie Land?" 
And when the ministers sought to buy provisions, they replied, 
"Ye are so full of the spirit, ye need nothing more." 

But religion was not the only topic on which they con- 
versed. In the joy of escape they became even himiorous, and 
actually ventured upon a witticism in regard to the three min- 
isters on board. A hooker was a small fishing boat still in use at 
the Orkneys, and some facetious passenger gave out that they 
were well provided for, having Cotton for their clothing. Stone 
for their building, and a Hooker for their fishing. 

A majority of the company settled at Cambridge, then 
called New Town, but two years later jealousies and animosities 
sprang up between this place and Boston, and under the slender 
pretext that they were straitened for want of land, they asked 
of the General Court permission to remove to Hartford, Conn. 

On May 31, 1636, fivescore persons, including Eev. Thomas 
Hooker and Rev. Samuel Stone, set forth on their perilous jour- 
ney through pathless woods, with only a compass and a few ob- 
scure Indian trails to guide them. 

In Hartford and adjoining towns they soon foimd homes, 
and for many years lived peacefully and prosperously. So close 
was the friendship between William Goodwin and the Eev. Mr. 
Stone that both before and after this journey their houses were 
built side by side. But after the death of Mr. Hooker, Mr. Good- 
win and his pastor became alienated and even embittered against 
one another. Nearly all of the Massachusetts Colonists were 
church members and their children had been baptized into the 
same faith. Some of their sons had grown to manhood without 
making a public profession of religion, though leading exem- 
plary lives. These persons found themselves deprived of the 
right to vote in town meeting, denied the ordinance of baptism 
for their children, and debarred from having any voice in the 
selection of a minister. This roused their indignation, and a 
great wave of dissatisfaction arose in the Hartford Church, 
spreading in ever widening ripples until the whole country was 
a sea of discontent. Some even went so far as to propose that 
all men whose lives were of good report should be allowed to 



THE ORIGIN" OF THE TOWN 3 

partake of the commuuion. Councils were held, but nothing de- 
cisive was accomplished. 

Elder Goodwin bitterly opposed the agitation of this ques- 
tion. It seemed to him like breaking down the gates into the 
fold, and a large minority of the church sympathized with him. 
Not so the pastor, Eev. Mr. Stone. He had always been less 
rigid in his views than many of his brethren, and had often dis- 
turbed good Mr. Hooker by his habit of smoking, his liberal ideas 
of orthodoxy, and other such matters. So now he gave his hearty 
assent to the Halfway Covenant, as it was termed, which had 
been approved by the council at Boston in 1657. This council 
decreed that non-church members who owned the covenant, and 
had nothing scandalous in their lives, should not be denied the 
rite of baptism for their children; but this did not give them 
the privilege of partaking of the Lord's Supper. 

The intrusion of this article of belief among the inhabitants 
of South Hadley, about eighty years later, was the occasion of 
a violent religious quarrel, rending the church, and ending in 
the expulsion of the town's first minister, Rev. Grindal Rawson. 
Feeling ran so high that Elder Goodwin determined to with- 
draw, with his followers, from the Hartford Church, and to re- 
turn to what he called "Ye pious and Godly government of 
Massachusetts Bay." 

Eev. John Russell, of Wethersfield, and most of his congre- 
gation, were in unison with Mr. Goodwin, and joined in his plan 
of removal to Norwottuck, the present town of Hadley. Of 
the pilgrimage thither, we know but little ; we hear of an accom- 
plished journey, but none of its details. Yet it must have been 
an arduous undertaking. It may be that by day the October 
sunshine filtered through the crimson and golden leaves, mak- 
ing a glory about their heads ; but the nights were chill, and the 
bear, the wolf, and the catamount were always out watching 
for their prey in the far-reaching forests. 

No sooner had they arrived at their destination than the 
woods rang with the sound of their axes, and the work of build- 
ing went rapidly on. 

The history of Hadley from this time onward has been so 



4 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

minutely and accurately told by the late Sylvester Judd that no 
other hand is needed to bridge the gulf between the centuries. 

One incident that he relates finds confirmation among the 
descendants of Lieut. Samuel Smith, Peter Tilton, Timothy 
Nash, Nathaniel Dickinson, and Elder John White. Many of 
their descendants are still living in South Hadley and Granby, 
and five of them have made affidavit in the presence of a Notary 
Public to the fact that the following story had been handed down 
in their families, from father to son, for over two hundred years. 

Few events in the history of Hadley have excited such uni- 
versal interest as the long concealment of the regicides by Eev. 
John Eussell, assisted by Lieut. Samuel Smith and the Hon. 
Peter Tilton, and the unlooked-for aid of General Goffe in 
repelling an Indian attack. The story is too widely known to 
need more than a brief repetition. 

General Wlialley and his son-in-law. General Goffe, were 
two of the judges who had condemned Charles I of England to 
death. Upon the accession of his son to the throne, a price was 
set upon their heads, and they were obliged to flee to America. 
Here, being closely pursued, they were compelled to hide in 
cave, ravine or forest, finally finding a refuge in a well-con- 
trived chamber in the minister's house at Hadley. 

Some of the carpenters of that day had evidently learned, 
during the persecutions in England, the art of concealment, for 
this room gave access to the cellar, probably by means of a slid- 
ing panel, such as was found in demolishing an old house in an- 
other part of the town, and which dated back to the same period. 

During King Philip's war, the towns which lay upon the 
outskirts of civilization were in constant and extreme danger 
from roving bands of Indians. Hadley was peculiarly defence- 
less, not only as a frontier town, but because the Connecticut 
Biver afforded such a swift and silent path of approach for 
Indian canoes. Each day seemed a terror, each night a men- 
ace, and the "Holy text of pike and gun" was in all minds. 

The story of General Goffe's appearance was often re- 
lated to a resident of South Hadley by her grandmother, just as it 
had been told to the latter by her grandfather, Nathaniel Dick- 



THE ORIGIN" OF THE TOWN 5 

inson, wLio was living at the time the incident occurred. Al- 
though but a boy, the fact that his father was slain by the In- 
dians at about the same time may have impressed the events 
of the year upon his memory. 

The minister at Hadley, recognizing the great danger to 
be apprehended from Indian invasion, had appointed a day of 
fasting and prayer, and on this occasion every member of Mr. 
Kussell's household, excepting the two regicides, attended divine 
sei'vice at the meeting-house. This left the two voluntary cap- 
tives at liberty to roam about the house at pleasure and look 
from the windows. General Goffe, noting the approach of the 
Indians, hastily descended to the street. Two courses lay open 
before him ; he would risk discovery if he showed himself in the 
town, and the English government was still searching for him, 
but, on the other hand, if the settlers were overpowered, pil- 
lage, fire, and massacre were sure to follow. 

The Hadley men had no leader and were beginning to waver 
before the onslaught of their savage foes, when Goffe, with a 
roar like that of a wild beast, placed himself in the front ranks. 
Perhaps the old-time vigor came back for a moment; at all 
events, he rallied the men and charged the Indians with such 
power and skill that they were soon in full retreat. During 
the pursuit, Goffe quietly slipped aside and, returning to the 
house of Mr. Eussell, became again a self-immured prisoner. 

There was much questioning after the battle as to the iden- 
tity of their unexpected ally. The paleness engendered by years 
of confinement, and perhaps the long and snowy beard (for 
smooth faces were then coming into vogue), evidently suggested 
to some imaginative mind the idea that the strange visitor was 
of supernatural origin. It was not until after William ascended 
the throne of England, and the search for the regicides ceased, 
that it was considered safe to make known the real facts in the 
case. 

Some modern iconoclasts have tried to wrest this incident 
from the pages of history, but with little siaccess, and genera- 
tions yet unborn will repeat to their children, and children's 
children, the story of Goffe, the Angel who Saved the Town. 



6 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

The early settlement of South Hadley may be attributed 
to the energy, courage, and perseverance of six persons — Peter, 
William and Luke Montague, Chileab Smith, Jr., John Pres- 
ton, and Ebenezer Marsh. 

These men were linked together, not merely by the ties of 
kindred, but by a common hope and ambition, and the history of 
their enterprise should be preserved in picture, song, and story, 
as long as the town endures. 

Seventeen himdred came and went without finding, it was 
said, a single pauper in the whole Connecticut Valley. But a 
vague spirit of unrest had begun to creep into the quiet town 
of Hadley. It gathered strength as the years went on, till we 
find it recorded that the young people complained of being 
straitened for the want of room. Now, surrounded as they 
were with the vast areas of unmapped country, and in a vil- 
lage where many a family owned hundreds of acres of untilled 
lan(^, their discontent must have referred to the crowded state 
of their households — too many families in one dwelling being 
the rule. 

Thus, John Preston, Sr., married one of four sisters, each of 
whom brought her husband home to live under the paternal 
roof. And the children of William Montague, whose relatives 
were among the richest people of the town, lived in the same 
house with their uncles, aunts, and cousin, to say nothing of 
their father, mother, and grandparents. 

In order to remedy this difficulty, and possibly to gratify 
their spirit of adventure, certain men in the community re- 
solved to colonize south of Mount Holyoke. 

The proposal aroused a fine commotion in the town. Peo- 
ple shook their heads and declared that those sandy slopes and 
wooded intervales were incapable of cultivation, generally end- 
ing with the cheerful forecast that their families would cer- 
tainly starve. The old folks, with tears in their eyes, begged 
them to give up their mad plan. But nothing daunted their 
courage, for already the very air seemed to be electric with 
the coming possibilities of the new town. 



THE ORIGIN OF THE TOWN 7 

Tradition tells us that at last a town meeting was called, 
from which was wrung a reluctant consent to the exodus. But, 
be this as it may, we know that in the spring of 1720, a day of 
fasting and prayer was appointed from the pulpit, in order to 
implore the Divine Blessing upon this hazardous undertaking. 

Others, outside the list of names previously mentioned, had 
at first joined in the enterprise, but without a just estimate of 
the danger, privation, and incessant labor that the task involved. 

First of all, roads must be located, and witliin their boun- 
daries trees must be felled and stumps uprooted, in order to 
open even the roughest kind of a cart-track. After the site of 
a house had been decided upon, ground must be cleared in order 
to give space for working and for the tent which would be their 
only shelter until the roof was covered with shingles, which lat- 
ter must be made by hand. Their tools were clumsy and often 
dull, yet no scamping of their work was tolerated. 

If the half-dozen men, who remained true to their purpose, 
needed a Nestor, they certainly found one in the person of 
Chileab Smith, Sr., since three of their number were his grand- 
sons, a fourth was his son, the fifth his granddaughter's hus- 
band, and the sixth a brother of his son's wife. 

The great event of 1720 in Hadley was the laying out of 
home lots south of Mt. Holyoke. For several years this mat- 
ter had been under discussion without reaching any definite 
result. 

The winter of 1717 had been one of imexampled severity. 
Noah Webster has stated that at this time there were snow- 
drifts from sixteen to eighteen feet deep, so that in order to 
leave their houses some persons were compelled to put on snow 
shoes and climb out of the second story windows. 

This fact may have deferred the enterprise, but three years 
later there still remained a resolute purpose to — as the old 
records express it — "make a village, or precinct, behind the 
mountain." In February of 1720 a town meeting was called 
and a committee appointed who should lay out one thousand 
acres of the best farming land to be found there. 

Their report included nine divisions of land. The first of 



8 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

these, possibly in continuance of its Indian name, was called 
Leaping Well. It contained four home lots, number one being 
chosen by Nathaniel Ingram, whose descendants retained pos- 
session of it for more than a century and a half. 

The second division was called "North of Stony Brook." 
It consisted of nine home lots, and lay upon the west side of 
College street, beginning near the residence of I. N. Day and 
extending northerly nearly, or quite, to the schoolhouse grounds. 
The latter place was at this time part of a highway ten rods 
wide, which, beginning at the schoolhouse, extended westerly 
down the slope of the hill till at the foot of the ravine it turned, 
running northward to Hadley street. This road formed part 
of the main thoroughfare from Springfield to Hadley, since 
the cross street in front of J. S. Preston's house had not then 
been opened. 

About thirty rods southwest of the post office was a quag- 
mire, and the whole section was spoken of in the ancient rec- 
ords as "The Gutter, or Lubber's Hole." 

Tradition gives us this account of the manner in which it 
gained its name, though two centuries have so changed the 
conformation of the groimd that the story loses much of its 
significance. Three very fleshy men, so the old folks say, were 
once journej'ing from Springfield to Hadley. They traveled 
in company, partly for the sake of sociability, but chiefly as a 
means )of mutual protection against wild animals. One of 
the number, who had been partaking too freely of old New 
England rum, wandered from the road and ended by falling 
into the quagmire. Owing to his great weight and half-intoxi- 
cated condition, it was almost impossible to extricate him. The 
definition of a lubber was "a heavy, clumsy fellow," and this 
incident fixed the name of Lubber's Hole upon a region that 
has always been noted for the industry and enterprise of its 
citizens. 

Many of these early names were given in recognition of 
some supposed characteristic. Misery Swamp, near the Slipe, 
was tenanted by wolves, who made night hideous with their dis- 
mal howling. Bare Hill (now Prospect) was almost wholly 



THE ORIGIN OF THE TOWN 9 

destitute of vegetation, while Bear Mountain was the favorite 
haunt of Sir Bruin. Cold Hill is still swept by the chilly north- 
westers that led to its early name, and Buttery Brook, too, 
has a little story of its own. 

A buttery at first denoted a place where butter was kept, 
but in process of time its signification broadened, and it came 
to be synonymous with pantry, a place where food was stored. 
In those days it was customary, when a deer was killed in spring- 
time or during the summer, to separate the flesh from the bones, 
the former being, to quote from J. G. Holland, "stored in a 
spring whose water, summer and winter alike, was almost at 
freezing point." This particular location in South Hadley 
Falls was recorded in 1720 as "Markham's Buttery," so named, 
probably, in honor of William Markham of Hadley, a son-in- 
law of Governor John Webster. He may have been an unus- 
ually successful hunter and one who shared generously the prod- 
ucts of his skill, for thirty years after he had gone upon his 
last journey the Proprietor's Book still speaks of Markham's 
Buttery. 

The third division of land was called "North of Lubber's 
Hole." It contained eighteen home lots, one of which (a part 
of the Eastman homestead, now owned by J. A. Skinner) was 
set aside for, as the records says, "The first well larnt, ortho- 
dox minister as shall settle south of Mt. Holyoke." This divi- 
sion began upon the west side of Woodbridge street, near the 
foot of Mrs. Hollingsworth's garden, and extended northward 
to the house owned by Hinsdale Smith. 

These lots were, as the committee reported, curiously 
shaped, "something triangular at the rear of them, and each 
one of them longest upon the southerly side." 

The Wliite family chose their lots near the site now owned 
by A. S. Kinney, and by purchase eventually obtained the whole 
of this division. 

"The fourth division, west of Stony Brook," comprised 
twenty-eight home lots upon the east side of College, Wood- 
bridge and Amherst streets, beginning near the Perkins Mill 
and reaching almost to Bittersweet Lane. It provided also for 



10 IN" OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

a highway, eight rods wide, to be located a little below the pres- 
ent Morgan street. The land which formed the original Sem- 
inary Campus was chosen by William Murray and Peter Mon- 
tague, Jr. 

The fifth division, "north of Peachawomiche Eoad," be- 
gan at nearly the same point where the fourth ended, and ex- 
tended northerly to Bachelor's Brook. The land of Samuel Por- 
ter, who had drawn home lot number sixty-four, included both 
sides of Amherst street, that highway not being laid out until 
a dozen years later, when it was so narrow it was known only 
as Hubbard's Path, which followed the old Indian trail from 
the Notch to Cold Hill. 

The sixth division consisted of twenty-seven lots upon the 
western side of Cold Hill, eight of these being chosen by as 
many individual Smiths. 

In the seventh division, "east of Cold Hill," were fourteen 
lots, from which three more Smith families and six Dickinsons 
chose their homes. 

The eighth division lay "east of Bare Hill, in the bow of 
Stony Brook." Here the leading owners were the KeUoggs, 
who retained a part of this land imtil 1909. 

The ninth and last division was ' ' south of Bare Hill, ' ' near 
the Preston homestead. 

The distribution of these one thousand acres of land was 
effected in a somewhat singular manner. There were at this 
time one hundred and seventeen proprietors holding taxable 
property within the limits of Hadley, and it was voted that 
the size of each person's home lot should be in proportion to his 
ratable estate. In consequence of this provision, and of the 
fact that the lots were laid out from a quarter to a half mile 
in depth, it came about that while the rich men had a frontage 
on the street of from three hundred to seven hundred feet, the 
unfortunate owner of lot number seventy-five found himself pos- 
sessed of a long strip of land only six feet, two and one-fourth 
inches in width. 

The method of determining the order in which each pro- 
prietor should make choice of his land was by "the lot." A 



THE ORIGIN OF THE TOWN" 11 

town meeting was called and the presiding officer placed in a 
hat or box slips of paper numbered from one to one hundred and 
eighteen. Each proprietor as his name was called took out one 
of these slips, which denoted not the number of his home lot, 
but that of his turn for choosing his land. The fortunate per- 
son who drew number one had his first choice of the whole ter- 
ritory then laid out. He who drew the last number must take 
whatever piece of land was left. 

After the distribution of the home lots had been completed, 
it was soon found that very few of the proprietors were ready 
to face the difficulties and dangers attendant upon the begin- 
ning of a new settlement. Only the six, whose names have al- 
ready been given, adhered firmly to their purpose. The latter, 
it was said, had entered into a compact to work in rotation at 
clearing the land and building one another's houses. 

The following account of the manner in which this enter- 
prise was conducted Tvas derived partly from tradition and 
partly from ancient records, but is probably correct in nearly 
every detail. 

The pioneers of South Hadley, with the exception of Luke 
Montague, who, not being of age, was not yet entitled to draw 
a home lot, were all married men whose ages ranged from 
twenty-eight to thirty-seven years. Since Peter Montague 
would have the assistance of his younger brother, it would 
naturally be expected that his should be the first house to be 
framed, especially as he had shrewdly selected his land in a 
central location, and just opposite the point of junction where 
the two roads leading from Hadley came together, but before 
this house could be built great trees must be felled, great beams 
hewed, and planks be sawed, to say nothing of joists, shingles 
and hand-made nails. 

It was soon learned that the best timber for this purpose 
was to be found upon Chileab Smith's home lot, which he had, 
perhaps, chosen with a view to this very end. His land was 
embraced in the farm formerly occupied by the late Mr. Albert 
Goldthwait, and the first field ever cleared in South Hadley 
lay a little southeast of the house of Deacon Calvin Preston. 



12 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

For nearly two centuries this piece of ground was known dis- 
tinctively as "The Old Field." 

The old Proprietor's Book speaks of the mill pond (south 
of Mrs. Dunklee's land), on which at this time a saw mill was 
said to have been standing, and a rough cart track between this 
place and Chileab Smith's home lot could be quickly opened. 

No sooner was the unseasoned timber for the new house 
prepared for weathering than other work lay ready at hand. 
Ebenezer Marsh had acquired possession of a piece of land 
northwest from the home of Sheriff Brockway. This must be 
cleared and prepared for the first apple orchard ever set out 
in South Hadley. Within a distance of eight miles were nur- 
series from which young trees could be transplanted, and in old 
accoimt books from 1732 to 1740 we find frequent entries like 
the following: "Bo't of Eb. Marsh, 2 Barils of Syder." 

While this work was progressing, it is said that these first 
settlers went back to Hadley every Saturday afternoon, re- 
turning to their work Monday morning, bringing with them 
loaves of rye and Indian bread, nut cakes, gingerbread, and 
like dainties. As for more substantial food, fish, deer and wild 
turkeys were never far to seek. 

It is doubtful whether the house of Peter Montague was 
completed during this first summer. Months were required for 
seasoning the green timber so that it would neither shrink nor 
warp; then, too, the chimney must be taken into consideration, 
ground must be excavated to the depth of several feet, that its 
foundation might be below the reach of frost. 

Early in 1721 we find our pioneers buying more land south 
of Mt. Holyoke, this last winter (spent in Hadley) having in 
nowise discouraged them. During the summer of 1721, more 
land was cleared, material for John Preston's house was pre- 
pared and fruit trees planted, Peter Montague setting out young 
apple trees and placing a pear tree at the very corner of his 
house. The latter is thought to have survived one hundred and 
fifteen years. 

As summer waned, a new danger threatened, since a fresh 
Indian war was imminent. For more than a year it had been 




Il 



THE OEIGIN OF THE TOWN" 13 

the law that every man should keep arms and ammunition with- 
in his house, and the weight of their heavy matchlocks, which 
must always be kept within reach while they worked, added 
much to the labor of building. 

In the early days there had been a law that every town 
upon the Connecticut River should keep in readiness "ninety 
coats basted with cotton wool and made defensive against In- 
dian arrows," and when, as was customary, the minister 
preached to and prayed with the soldiers before their setting 
out, his text was usually an inspiration, as, "Thou shalt not be 
afraid for the arrow that flieth by day." But, now, in spite of 
the law strictly prohibiting the sale of firearms to the Indians, 
they had learned their use, owned them, and had lost their 
superstitious fear of the stick that sent thunder and lightning. 

During the last two decades many white men had been 
slain near the banks of the Connecticut, some when working in 
the fields and others in their own homes. At this time the 
Indians, instigated by their French allies, had already taken 
captive whole families of the English and carried them to 
Canada. 

Hadley, early in 1722, in spite of the threatening aspect of 
affairs, made a second grant of land south of Mt. Holyoke. This 
grant was five times the size of the previous one, and the success 
of the new settlement seemed now to be assured. 

In this distribution of land William Montague appears to 
have cared but little for his own original home lot, which stood 
on Woodbridge street, desiring a more remote location. When 
the day appointed for the choosing of land arrived, he, followed 
possibly by Peter Domo, who located near him, desired to go 
farther afield. It is said that William Montague, after reach- 
ing Woodbridge street, declared himself ready to walk east- 
ward, following an old Indian trail, until sunset. Nightfall 
found him at the McGrath Spring on Batchelor street. Although 
the land eventually decided upon lay farther to the south and 
near Granby Center, yet he kept his promise of settling east 
of the first nine divisions. 

The importance of having new roads, whereby intending 



14 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

settlers could reach their meadows and pasture lands, soon be- 
came apparent. The first highway laid out in the town, aside 
from the usual thoroughfare between Springfield and Hadley, 
was on Moshier street, which extended northerly to the house of 
J. W. Waite, then easterly to South street, in Grranby — the sur- 
veyors choosing, as the old record said, "The hardest and even- 
est land." 

We also read that on April 20, 1722, "We laid out a high- 
way running easterly from ye Cold Hill to ye end of our Bounds, 
which run as ye Old Path runs. Excepting some perticular 
places where we run streighter or other places where ye ground 
was better going. This is called by some ye Peachawomache 
Eoad, which is eight rods wide." On the following day a high- 
way was laid out from the Krug Homestead to Smith's Ferry, 
but this was not cleared of trees until many years later. The 
locations of these old roads have in most cases been somewhat 
changed. 

Perhaps no better proof can be found of the kind feeling 
and sense of justice which prevailed in those days than their 
method of locating new roads. Many of our allotments of land 
were laid out in tiers so that some persons were unable to reach 
their own grounds without crossing those of their neighbors. 
In such cases the latter was forbidden by law to plow up the 
land traversed by the former. A committee was appointed 
who apprised the land for the road and the man who wanted 
the right of way paid for it and held it. The expense of felling 
the trees and digging up the stumps in these long highways 
would have been a heavy burden for the town to assume, and 
later on it was accordingly voted that those settlers who needed 
fuel in order to replenish their winter fires should have liberty 
to clear the timber from the roads. As the boundaries of the 
highway were not very clearly defined, it was sometimes a great 
temptation to encroach upon the land of some other proprietor. 
A man who was once reproved for cutting a fine tree beyond 
the bounds replied that "The highway is always widest where 
the best timber grows." 

The work of constructing these roads was soon interrupted 



THE OEIGIN OF THE TOWN 15 

by the fourth Indian war, which was terminated only by the 
Long Peace of 1726. During this time the depredations of the 
red men were so great that the government, in order to stimu- 
late watchfulness, offered a bounty of one hundred pounds for 
every Indian scalp. Under these circumstances, life south of 
Mt. Holyoke would be deemed very unsafe. 

John Preston and his associates had not forgotten how the 
red men, a few years before, had climbed to the summit of Mt. 
Tom in order to mark the position of the scattered houses in 
the village beneath, and had then descended to massacre more 
than a score of its unsuspecting inhabitants. A portion of the 
great Indian trail from Connecticut to Canada lay directly 
through South Hadley; it extended from the ford near the 
bridge in the Connecticut Eiver to Turkey Pass, or The Notch, 
as it is now called. Why should not Mt. Holyoke prove to be 
an equally good vantage ground for the savage foe? Prudence 
certainlj^ dictated that the new settlement should be abandoned 
for a time. 

Ancient records indicate that this course was the one pur- 
sued, and again forest and copse echoed the evening song of the 
wood-thrush. 

There were still, however, brief journeys to the embryo 
town. In 1725, John Preston, desiring to be near his kinsman, 
purchased the land adjoining Chileab Smith's home lot on the 
west. This place, known as the Preston Farm, has remained 
in the possession of his descendants ever since. 

Here, as soon as the war was over, he erected the second 
frame dwelling house ever built in South Hadley. Its massive 
and well-seasoned timbers were fastened strongly together with 
large wooden pegs. His original home lot had been on College 
street, and included what has been known as the Old Howard 
Place. 

Several decades after the erection of this second dwelling 
house there came a winter of unusual length and severity. The 
snow lay so deep upon the levels that on the 20th of March this 
building was drawn across to College street over the tops of 
the fences, and after being set a short distance west of the high- 



16 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

way became the southern ell of the Howard house. This dwell- 
ing was consumed by fire some years since or South Hadley's 
second house might have survived for centuries to come. 

Early in 1727 a change of sentiment in regard to the South 
Precinct became manifest. Many new settlers determined to 
occupy the land previously allotted them. A party which in- 
cluded five families of Smiths, three of Kelloggs, three of Tay- 
lors, and others, commenced the work of building their houses. 

Luke Montague, a stalwart bachelor of twenty-seven, had 
now returned to South Hadley. He brought with him the fa- 
mous Courting Stick, which was so useful on cold winter nights 
when there being but one fire in the house, the whole family 
must be present at the wooing. This Courting Stick was a liol- 
low tube about five feet in length, through which two lovers 
could whisper to one another without their conversation being 
audible to those about them. 

Peter Montague's first house appears to have been occupied 
at this time by Daniel Nash, Jr., who subsequently purchased 
the premises. He was apparently not quite satisfied with the 
location of the house, which, it is said, after taking down the 
stone chimney, he moved to the present site of the Art Build- 
ing. Here he erected a huge chimney formed of hand-made 
bricks. Attached to the house was a gunsmith's shop, wherein 
also he shod horses and oxen. 

As for Ebenezer Marsh, aged people many years ago 
claimed that the old kitchen still at the rear of Fred Loomer's 
dwelling contained the big chimney and ponderous beams of 
"Eb's" first domicile. 

The number of settlers south of the mountain began to in- 
crease so rapidly that within five years nearly forty families 
were living there. 

The work of building these early houses was of necessity 
a slow and laborious one. They spent little time in digging cel- 
lars, but turned their attention at once to preparing material for 
chimneys, the bricks for which must all be made by hand. For 
this purpose sand must be thoroughly mixed with the clay in 
order to prevent it from cracking, and as they had none of our 



THE ORIGIN OF THE TOWN 17 

modern machinery this could be accomplished only by the tram- 
pling of heavy feet. If the chimney were to be a large one the 
sand and clay were placed together upon the ground, and for 
two days the patient oxen were driven back and forth, back 
and forth, till the two ingredients were well mingled. Mold- 
ing it into form and drying it in the sun before putting it into 
their primitive kilns must also be done by hand. The number 
of bricks that went into the making of these chimneys would 
be almost incredible in our day. A grandson of one of our 
pioneers, building a house here in 1791, used 10,000 hand-made 
bricks in constructing a single chimney. 

In the beginning all worked together, in turn, upon one 
another's houses, their joint labor being a necessity when heavy 
lifting was to be done. Confederacy was also a measure of 
safety at night when the tenants of the forests must be guarded 
against. Not only did the wolves issue from their lairs, but Sir 
Bruin, less fierce yet a clever marauder, might be sleeping in 
the very door yard. Then, too, the presence of venomous rep- 
tiles entailed constant vigilance. Rattlesnakes came down from 
the mountain in search of water and were often found at the 
very threshold. One woman, returning from a fierce encounter 
in which she had routed his snakeship, said, excitedly, but with- 
out a thought of irreverence, "I have killed the Devil." So 
numerous and venomous were these reptiles that more than a 
century later it was a common saying in Amherst College that 
no student was worthy of his diploma unless he had killed a 
rattlesnake. A member of the Class of 1830 said at a commence- 
ment dinner that at the time of his graduation there were not 
students enough in the college to keep the campus free from 
snakes. 

Old Mr. Root, who lived in the next town, was always ready 
to tell of his adventure with wolves. He had been down to the 
meadow to see if the grass was ready to cut, and, it being a 
time of peace with the Indians, had left his heavy matchlock at 
home. On his way back he heard a strange noise, and, looking 
up, saw a pack of wolves coming toward him. He had not even 
a stick with which to defend himself, and reflecting that God 



18 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

alone could save him, he stood still in the path, closed his eyes, 
and prayed that for the sake of his wife and little ones the Lord 
would preserve him. He could hear the shufiBing of the wolves' 
feet as he breathed his petition and expected every moment to 
feel their fangs in his throat. Presently the sound appeared to 
grow fainter and recede. Opening his eyes he saw the last one 
disappearing and knew that he was saved. 

Bears were not at this time considered dangerous to the 
human race unless angered or very hungry. Instances are told 
of little children in this vicinity passing them unharmed. The 
author's great-grandfather used to relate the story of a narrow 
escaioe which he once had. He was going courting, and riding 
on horseback through the forests, saw before him a large black 
bear sitting upright beside the woodland path. He looked so 
dignified that the young man, in his light-heartedness, ventured 
on a joke. As he passed by he lifted his hat and bowed low. 
"Your servant, sir," he said. But the bear evidently considered 
this a challenge to mortal combat, for, with a fierce growl, he in- 
stantly started in pursuit. Mile after mile the horse's feet, 
winged by fear, rushed madly on, but close behind them, like a 
relentless fate, came the padding sound of the infuriated brute. 
At last the panting horse, exhausted by the race for life, began 
to falter and the end seemed near, when, lo, beside the path stood 
a house and yard encircled by a fence. The gate was, fortu- 
nately, open, and horse and rider entered. The bear stopped to 
gaze suspiciously at the fence, then with a disappointed growl 
turned and went back into the forest. 

During the early settlement of the town there prevailed 
among its inhabitants an almost universal spirit of kinship and 
a generous regard for one another's interests. To every new- 
comer there was straightway given what was called a Chop- 
ping Bee. On the appointed morning men might be seen com- 
ing from every direction, carrying axes, saws and other imple- 
ments of labor. Wlien, at sunset, the grateful proprietor sur- 
veyed the transformation that had been effected, he could hardly 
believe the testimony of his own eyes. This great change had 
been brought about by what was then called the drive; this 



{ 



THE ORIGIN' OF THE TOWN 19 

meant that the woods liad been leveled in the following manner : 
A row of trees was selected, the first one of which was felled 
and removed ; the others were then partly cut, all of them upon 
the same side toward the front, the smaller trees being chopped 
into until the middle of the trunk had been reached, while the 
larger ones were penetrated still more deeply. The last tree 
in the row was felled in such a manner that it would drop upon 
the preceding one, and when the crashing sound that followed 
had ceased it would be found that all the trees had fallen in the 
same manner that a long row of ninepins can be thrown down 
by a single blow administered at one end of the line. 

Most of these early houses were small, one-story affairs, 
and if any attempt was made at having a cellar the latter could 
only be reached by means of a short ladder let down through a 
trap door in the kitchen floor. 

In 1728 Peter Montague, returning to South Hadley, pur- 
chased the land southwest of Bachelor Brook, where he built his 
second house, which was at that date the finest dwelling south 
of Mt. Holyoke. Four of its large rooms contained each a big, 
open fireplace ; one of these, a chamber in the second story, being 
called the spinning room. 

It had been one of the early laws that boys, girls and women 
should spin thirty weeks each year, and it was the duty of the 
selectmen to see that this edict was carried into effect. During 
the twenty-two weeks of cold weather very few of our in- 
habitants had any means of heating their spinning room. South 
Hadley did not intend that the crime of laziness should take 
root within her borders, and a special committee was appointed 
to look after idle persons. This duty later on developed upon 
the tithing men, whose office was not simply to preserve order in 
church, but to see that in every family the spinning and weav- 
ing of flax and wool provided sufficient clothing for the house- 
hold. They were at that time called inspectors of the neigh- 
bors. Any families who neglected to comply with their de- 
mands were warned by the constable that they must leave the 
town. 

Habits of enforced industry were continued until far into 



20 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

the nineteenth century. Each of the young people had a cer- 
tain amount of work allotted them, which was called their stint 
or stent, and no recreation was allowed until this task had been 
accomplished. Even the yoimger boys, upon their return from 
school, were required to knit a certain number of rounds upon 
their stockings before they could have a moment of play time. 

There was often a friendly rivalry among young girls 
in the same neighborhood. Our minister's daughter, Julia 
Hayes, in the old parsonage now occupied by Mrs. Lester, 
Clarissa Dwight, who lived on the present site of the Art Build- 
ing, and Sally White, whose father kept a tavern, each had the 
same amount of spinning allotted to them. This trio had agreed 
among themselves that whoever first finished her task should 
hang a towel from the window, and every morning found the 
girls at the very earliest peep of day sitting at their spinning 
wheels, each ambitious of being the first to hang out the signal 
that her stent was accomplished. 

In such ways did our forefathers teach their children to 
respect the old sajang that "Idleness travels very slowly and 
poverty soon overtakes her." 



CHAPTER SECOND 

EABLY LIFE IN SOUTH HADLEY 

MANIFOLD were the devices whereby our early honse- 
wives were aided in their struggle with the privations 
incident to the settlement of a new town. 

Then, as now, Monday was washing day. Tlie larger home 
lots had been so carefully laid out that nearly every one con- 
tained a stream of water, where in summer the clothing of the 
family could be washed and then hung upon the bushes to dry. 

But when winter came and the brooks were fettered with 
ice some substitute for the modern tub must be devised. Nature, 
however, had anticipated many of their needs. Eeady at hand 
in our swamps stood a species of the black gum, called the pep- 
eridge tree, whose trunk when old was hollow or filled with a 
soft, spongy substance which could be easily removed. A sec- 
tion of the trunk was sawed off, two projections being left upon 
the upper side, which would later be made into handles, and a 
round disk of wood was fitted into the other end. The records 
show that a washing tub was considered the equivalent in value 
of a half bushel measure. Churns, keelers for washing dishes, 
mortars, and miniature barrels, which served as a receptacle for 
soft soap, were made in a similar manner. A softer kind of 
wood, with a less twisted grain, was used in the manufacture of 
the wooden plates, bowls, platters, and other dishes in common 
use. The children ate their bread and milk with spoons whit- 
tled out by their fathers, or cunningly shaped from gourds, 
raised for this purpose. Even the first communion service may 
have been in this, as in other towns, a wooden one. 

Upon the advent of visitors, the dinner table was adorned 
with pewter plates and dishes, shining like so much silver. Only 
at neighborhood tea parties did the few bits of china appear. 
At these each guest was supposed to bring his or her own cup, 
saucer, teaspoon, and possibly an earthen plate. The tea was 



23 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

cooled in and drank from the saucer, and a spoon placed in the 
cup was a signal to the hostess that it needed replenishing. 
These festive occasions were bright spots amid the ceaseless 
drudgery of the settlers' life. The pound-cake that graced the 
center of the table was intended for ornament as well as con- 
sumption. "Gest to let her see that I knew what manners was, 
I passed it a second time, and she up and took another hull 
piece," was the complaint uttered by one of these ancient 
matrons. 

About this time the small two-tined forks, with handles of 
horn, had come into use here, but they were still rare, as one of 
our richest men, whose family consisted of ten persons, owned 
but five knives and forks, and seven silver spoons. In these days 
the meat was cut into small pieces before placing it upon the 
table, and each child was given a bit of stout twig, from which 
the bark had been removed. Its two prongs having been well 
sharpened, served as a substitute for the new-fangled fork. 

From the ancient records we gain many a glimpse of the 
manners and customs of that day. The aforesaid family pos- 
sessed but one looking-glass, this being considered a patrician 
luxury. They had, however, four spinning wheels and a 
weaver's loom, these articles being classed among the necessi- 
ties of life. Upon them had been manufactured the thirteen 
linen sheets, in common i;se, the latter being valued in the ap- 
praisal at one shilling each, while the pair of cotton sheets, kept 
for the most distinguished guests, were set down at thirty shill- 
ings. 

This weaving and spinning must be done by daylight, for 
the inventory includes only two candlesticks, both of them being 
of iron. If any greater illumination was needed, a candlestick 
could be improvised from a turnip. 

In the making of candles, we find another instance of the 
abounding hospitality that prevailed. Those dipped in melted 
tallow were considered good enough for ordinary use, but the 
company candles had their wicks first dipped in turpentine in 
order to make them burn with a brighter flame. It must be re- 
membered tliat the ruddy glow which flooded the room from 



EARLY LIFE IN SOUTH HADLEY 23 

the burning logs in the wide-mouthed fireplace did much to- 
ward lighting the big kitchen, which was the general place of 
resort during the long winter evenings, and in whose dusky 
depths young lovers clasped hands and murmured their fond 
vows, unheeded by their elders. 

Our town had at that time a silent form of courtship, bor- 
rowed from the Indians. The bashful youth who would fain 
offer himself to the maiden of his choice plucked a sprig of 
southernwood, and at some opportune moment placed it in her 
hand. Quick to interpret its meaning, her answer might be 
given in three different ways. If she ruthlessly broke it in pieces 
and threw it away, this betokened a complete rejection of his 
suit. If she looked at it and then gently returned it, this was 
equivalent to saying, "I do not yet know my own mind, but you 
may continue to come here." If she kept it, raising it to her 
face in order to inhale its spicy fragrance, then indeed were the 
gates of Paradise flung wide before him. 

Courtesy toward even unwelcome guests was always a 
marked characteristic of this place. He who had spent a night 
in any household expected, as a matter of course, an invitation 
to conduct the morning devotions, and sometimes prolonged 
them beyond the usual limits. Upon one of these occasions a 
little South Hadley boy, whpse knees were weary from the long 
kneeling, remarked in a distinctly audible voice, "You've pray- 
ered long enough." This brought the orison to a speedy close, 
but the boy was afterwards interviewed by one of his parents 
and never repeated the misbehavior. 

The "everyday" apple pies were made with a rye crust, 
and sweetened with maple sugar; but there must always be a 
company pie with wheaten crust, and well seasoned with spice, 
and white or brown sugar. 

A child's first instruction in school was in regard to polite- 
ness. Before learning his A B C's he was taught to make his 
manners. This meant that he should watch the slow descent of 
the teacher's hand — his toes placed carefully upon the line — and 
at the psychological moment, should bend his body forward in an 
awkward bow. "Children should be seen and not heard," was 



24 IN" OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

the instant reproof if the little ones attempted to speak at the 
noon repast. There was no trouble at morning and night, for 
they were not allowed to come to table during breakfast or supper, 
but ate their bread and milk, or hasty pudding, sitting upon a 
joint stool. The reason of this exclusion from the two meals 
may have been that the one was too early and the other too 
late; for in summer the farmer's family breakfasted at five 
o 'clock and supped at seven, while in winter the usual hour was 
six o'clock, both morning and night. Giving plenty of time for 
sleep to the occupants of the trundle bed was one of the old-time 
cardinal virtues. 

The late Dr. J. G. Holland, poet and historian, who was 
formerly a resident of our town, and who often said that he loved 
South Hadley and was glad that he could count himself among 
her sons, when he heard someone quote, "The necessary hours 
of sleep are six for a man, seven for a woman, and eight for a 
fool," is said to have remarked dryly that the man who origi- 
nated that saying had better sleep eight hours in order to verify 
his own statement. 

The moral and spiritual welfare of children was watched 
over with no less degree of care than their physical develop- 
ment. The birch rod was considered a necessary adjunct of 
nearly every household, and usually lay ready at hand upon 
the mantelpiece. After correction had been duly administered, 
some parents required the sobbing culprit to stand in front of 
them and repeat these exasperating lines: 

"Solomon says, his words are mild, 

'Spare the rod and spoil the child.' 

Oh, no, dear mother, don't do so. 

But whip me well, and make me do." 
Should a child exhibit signs of a dawning vanity in a new 
bonnet or dress. Dr. Watts supplied just the words they needed 
to learn: 

"How should our garments, made to hide 

Our sin and shame, provoke our pride, 

For the poor sheep and silkworm wore 

The very clothing long before." 



EARLY LIFE IN SOUTH HADLEY 33 

Or, if little brothers and sisters quarreled, the punishment 
was supposed to receive added emphasis by having them re- 
peat immediately after it : 

"Let dogs delight to bark and bite. 

For God hath made them so; 
Let bears and lions growl and fight, 

For 'tis their nature to. 
But, children, you should never let 

Your angry passions rise; 
Your little hands were never made 
To tear each others eyes." > 
As the years went on, the rhymes grew a little milder. 
Major David Smith, who, after the Revolutionary War, had 
been made a deacon in our church, having become a merchant, 
went, at stated intervals, to Boston in order to replenish his 
stock of goods. About a century ago he appears to have intro- 
duced wooden dolls with glass eyes and vermilion cheeks, which 
were to the children a perpetual joy, they being to a certain 
degree indestructible. Coincident with this was the publication 
of a new poem: 

"Miss Jenny and Molly had each a new dolly. 

With rosy red cheeks and blue eyes. 
Dressed in ribbons and gauze, and they quarreled because 

The dolls were not both of a size. 
Oh, silly Miss Jenny to be such a ninny. 

To make so much trouble and noise; 
For the very next day her mamma took away 
The doll with red cheeks and blue eyes." 
One of the mothers in an adjoining town publicly declared 
that she should bring up her children without whipping them. 
This was a heresy that could not be countenanced, and the church 
committee were sent to call upon her in order to convince her of 
the error of her ways. They reminded her that Solomon, the 
wisest man that ever lived, said "Chasten thy son while there 
is hope, and let not thy soul spare for his crying," and repeated 
other passages of like import. "I am not patterning my life 
after Solomon's," she answered firmly, "but after the Lord 



26 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

Jesus. We are living under the New Dispensation," and she 
gave them such apt quotations from the Testament that they 
were glad to beat a retreat. It is worthy of note that every one 
of her sons became either a minister or a deacon. 

Children, as soon as they were too old to sit in lap, were 
taught to stand at table during the noontide meal. They were 
not allowed to sit until they had become so tall that it was in- 
convenient to convey their food from the plate to the mouth. 
Tables were much lower than at the present time, and some- 
times a child borrowed grandma's cricket to stand upon. 

It was expected at this time that every boy should read the 
Bible through at least once. This could be accomplished in a 
year's time by reading three chapters every day, and ten every 
Sunday. We find in our old account books how this or that boy 
was paid twenty-five cents for having read the Bible through. 

About the middle of the forenoon, in haying time, the labor- 
ers always stopped for a snack, as it was termed, and while 
they ate, some boy, detailed for the purpose, brought his Bible 
and read aloud to them, thus combining at the same time bodily 
and spiritual refreshment. 

"Five feather beds" is one of the items in the inventory 
previously referred to. From the refuse of their flax the set- 
tlers made a kind of coarse canvas called "tow cloth." This 
was sewed into ticks, two for each bed. One of them was filled 
with straw for summer use, and the other with feathers, since, 
during the winter, in the fireless rooms, they were needed for 
warmth as well as repose. These feathers were obtained from 
the wild turkeys, which were so plentiful. Nat Goodale used 
to say, "There was not an acre of land between Bittersweet 
Lane and Mt. Hoh^oke upon which he had not shot a wild tur- 
key." 

It was not until after the Revolution that even the richest 
inhabitants had a "tame" turkey for the Thanksgiving dinner. 
Before the advent of brooms the wings of these fowls were used 
not only for dusting the furniture, but in the hands of children 
as a means of keeping the floor clean. The stiff tail feathers 
were fastened together at the quills, forming an immense fan 



EARLY LIFE IN SOUTH HADLEY 27 

which was used to keep at bay the buzzing flies that on Sundays 
in summer swarmed through the unscreened windows of the meet- 
ing house. 

As more land was cleared, the beds were much improved 
by the substitution of what were known as "live geese feath- 
ers." This indicated that a piece of ground, situated near a run- 
ning stream, had been enclosed in a goose pen. Three times 
each year were its inmates deprived of some part of their downy 
covering. At every other new moon during the spring and early 
summer each goose was caught in turn, an old stocking pulled 
over its head to prevent it from biting, and about five ounces of 
soft feathers taken, after which it was released. Wlienever a 
suggestion was made to the old people in regard to the seeming 
cruelty of this operation, it was indignantly repelled with the 
assertion that at this season of the year the geese often pulled 
out their own feathers. 

The employments now assigned respectively to boys and 
girls were then considered as interchangeable. Young boys 
were taught to spin and knit, wash dishes, and, if necessary, 
make beds; girls learned to rake hay, milk the cow, and weed 
the garden. It was the boast of one of our Cold Hill farmers 
that with the help of his four daughters he needed no hired man. 

The geese were usuall}' driven back and forth, to and from 
their pasture, by a girl, who always received a feather bed, 
bolster and two pillows as a part of her wedding dowry. Esther 
K., who lived in the "Over-the-Brook" district, had been goose 
girl for many years and felt that when she left the paternal roof 
she had earned more than one feather bed. But custom was in- 
exorable. So she wove herself a tick, a little larger than the 
ordinary size, and stuffed it with feathers till her friends said 
it was so hard it would prove uncomfortable. She took no notice 
of this remark, but after arriving at her new home, calmly drew 
from her hair trunk a second tick, and having transferred nearly 
half of the feathers, pointed with pride to her two nice beds, and 
all the neighbors agreed that Mr. M. had found a very capable 
wife. 

It was a common saying here that no girl was fit to be mar- 



28 EAETA^ LIFE IN SOUTH HADLEY 

ried until she had a pillow case full of stockings, the wool for 
which must be carded, spun, and knit by her own hands. 

A wedding was the favorite merrymaking with both young 
and old. The elder people knew that the long afternoon would 
afford them ample time for talking politics, indulging in friendly 
gossip, or exchanging recipes for new dishes, which in the ab- 
sence of cook books was deemed a matter of importance. Then, 
too, they were certain of having a substantial supper, veal, beef, 
and other attractive viands, with unlimited supplies of liquid 
refreshment. 

For the young people there was the evening dance, pro- 
longed, as a peculiar privilege, until ten o'clock. But they must 
trip the "light fantastic toe" to the music of a different violin 
from the one which led the Sunday service of song. To use the 
same instrument at both church and dance would have seemed 
in that day a most unsanctified proceeding, even though the min- 
ister himself closed the merrjrmaking with the Benediction. 

Colonial laws strictly forbade the wooing of a maiden with- 
out having first obtained the consent of her parents ; this some- 
times caused an unscheduled change in the marriage ceremony. 
The author's grandfather used to tell how a daughter of the 
Widow H. was about to wed a young man of excellent repute, 
though not a member of the church. On the wedding day, hardly 
had the minister finished his first prayer when the mother of the 
bride interposed. Calling the young man by name, she de- 
manded from him a promise that if he married her daughter he 
would immediately institute family worship and have morning 
and evening devotions every day. After some hesitation he 
consented. Then she asked him if he were prepared to acknowl- 
edge that, owing to the death of her husband, she, and she 
alone, had the right to give or withhold her daughter in mar- 
riage. To this, upon due reflection, he assented, upon which 
she triumphantly produced a paper which contained the legal 
relinquishment of the daughter's share in her father's estate, 
leaving it to the widow to give the bride only such portion as she 
might see fit. She requested him to sign the paper. This he 
refused to do, upon which Mrs. H. forbade the continuance of 




liJJAL'iNij Tin: i;ii;i.!: -j^j tiul: iiAV.\iAKj;ii.s 



I 



EARLY LIFE IN SOUTH HALLEY 29 

the ceremony. The minister was perplexed ; the guests nervous ; 
but the mother remained calm and firm. At length the un- 
happy bridegroom yielded, and the minister used to say that 
he finished that ceremony with a celerity seldom witnessed. 

About the year 1800 marriage notices were sent to the 
newspapers, and were always accompanied by a piece of the 
wedding cake. These notices were generally printed in a com- 
plimentary style. We find in an old newspaper: 

"Mr. John Powers was married to the amiable and much 
accomplished Miss Jerusha Preston, daughter of Leftenant 
Preston of South Hadley." 

The amount of the bride's fortune was frequently included 
in the marriage notices, for bj^ law the wife's dowry became at 
once the property of her husband. 

But there were other and less joyous gatherings than those 
which marked the wedding festivities. In their desire to avoid 
all resemblance to the English ceremonial, our ancestors at first 
held no religious services at funerals, and during the first few 
years of our town burials were very unlike those of to-day. Old 
people used to tell us their grandfathers claimed that they could 
hew from a log, planks so smooth that one would suppose they 
had been nicely planed. Out of these planks were probably con- 
structed oblong boxes, which, when painted black, served as 
coffins. Later, the better class of carpenters in our town be- 
came known as cabinetmakers, and were expected to keep con- 
stantly on hand a supply of cofiins, large at the head and taper- 
ing at the foot. We find in the old account books, about 1770, 
"To a coffin with a door to it, fifty shillings." "To a coffin with 
a door hung," etc. This doubtless referred to the panel in the 
lid, which, when, removed, left the face exposed to view. 

One of the chief requisites for a burial was an abundant sup- 
ply of cider and other spirituous liquors. These were dispensed 
both before and after the interment. 

In accordance with their belief that the two sexes should 
be separated during divine service at the meeting house, men 
and women were not permitted to sit together at funerals. If 
the deceased person were a woman then the women sat in the 



30 EARLY LIFE IN SOUTH HADLEY 

same room with the coffin, and told one another in whispers of 
the different omens that had forewarned of death. For more 
than a centnry the friendly whippoorwills of Mt. Holyoke were 
in the hahit of coming down to the settlement in search of food, 
and sometimes alighted npon the ridgepole, that being their 
favorite perch. But if the plaintive note of this bird was heard 
over a house wherein a sick person lay, the case was considered 
hopeless. A long bit of wick in an unsnuffed candle was called 
a winding sheet, and was said to betoken that one would soon 
be needed in that neighborhood. 

sFor more than a hundred years a certain kind of wood 
tick, which made a curious little drumming sound with its head, 
added to the superstitious fears of our fathers. It was called 
the death watch, and though it was often in the walls the sick 
who heard it felt sure that death was near. But if the sound 
ceased, everyone made haste to repeat these encouraging words : 

' ' The omen is broken, the danger is over. 
The insect will die, and the sick will recover. 'j) 

Women were at this time said to have been excluded from 
funeral processions; they remained at the house, setting tables 
and preparing food of which all were to partake on the return 
from the grave. 

As the years rolled on, it became the custom for the minister 
to make a prayer at the house, and for the members of the be- 
reaved family to read aloud appropriate texts of Scripture. 

About 1800 there had been still greater changes in the 
method of conducting services for the dead. Now, at every 
funeral, the minister preached a sermon, usually a laudatory 
one, and closing with personal remarks addressed to different 
members of the bereaved family. If the deceased had been a 
large landholder he was spoken of as a man of substance. 

In a sermon preached upon the death of one of our richest 
men, the widow was adjured "not to repine at her loss, but 
rather to wonder at the divine mercy that had spared her." We 
learn from an old diary that Deacon Smith's funeral sermon 
"touched upon his character and the loss sustained by the town 



EARLY LIFE IN SOUTH HADLEY 31 

and the church by the death of so great, so wise, and so pious 
a man, in that most useful age of his life." 

After the Revolution women were no longer excluded from 
the funeral procession, and were even allowed to be present dur- 
ing the committal to the grave. If the deceased person were a 
woman, then they walked two and two directly behind the bier, 
the men following in like manner. If the deceased were a man, 
then this order was reversed, men having the precedence. The 
horsemen rode behind the mourners two abreast, while the rear 
was filled with chaises and other vehicles. So great was the 
respect shown toward the dead that during the conveyance from 
the house to the burying ground the street was kept clear of 
both persons and horses so that no one would either meet or pass 
the procession upon its way. 

There were at that time no professional undertakers, but 
once in five years a committee was appointed by our town, one 
in each school district, whose duty it was to "regulate the pro- 
cessions at funerals." This committee was usually composed 
of the leading men, courtly in their manners, but of firm, well- 
disciplined wills. Among them we find in our town records such 
names as these: Col. Ruggles Woodbridge, Major Elijjhaz 
Moody, Lieut. Titus Goodman, Dr. Stebbins, Lieut. Joseph 
White, etc. 

Six bearers, using what was termed a shoulder bier, car- 
ried the coffin from the home of the deceased to the graveyard, 
a distance of several miles. Later their number was reduced to 
four, but sometimes relays of men preceded them, and, at stated 
intervals, relieved the bearers by taking their places. This 
shoulder bier was still in use here in 1837. It was usually con- 
cealed beneath a black cloth, called a pall. The latter was owned 
by the town. We find in the records of January 13, 1745: 
"Voted that Daniel Moody make a grave cloth." 

At this period all persons were expected to lay aside their 
daily occupations in order to be present at funerals, attendance 
there being considered hardly less obligatory than at cnurcb 
services. 

It used to be said that the ordeal which awaited the moui-n- 



32 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

ers upon the ensuing Sabbath was even harder to bear than the 
funeral exercises. It was customary for the minister to read 
from the pulpit such notices as the following: "Mr. and Mrs. 

desire the prayers of this church and congregation that 

the recent death of their son may be sanctified to them for their 
spiritual good. Their children join in the same request." Then 
the whole family arose and stood in their pew while the pastor 
prayed for them. 

Friends of the sick also sent in requests for prayers, and 
within a century notices like the following were read in the 
South Hadley meeting house: "Mr. - — - — , who this week sets 
out for York State, asks the prayers of the congregation for his 
safe return." 

The storj' of South Hadley 's first burial place, as it has been 
handed down from generation to generation, forms one of the 
most pathetic incidents in the history of the town. In 1727 
the insistent courage and energy of John Preston had enabled 
him to build the second frame dwelling house ever erected south 
of Mt. Holyoke. One of the first public necessities of a new set- 
tlement was the "God's Acre," consecrated to the repose of the 
dead. It was usually placed near the meeting house in order 
that the worshipers might be constantly reminded of their own 
mortality. We had at this time no church building nearer than 
Hadley, and public opinion demanded that the burying ground 
should be so central that the mourners could walk from the house 
to the grave. We find local ministers as late as 1841 telling their 
congregations that the only proper method of procedure at 
funerals was for the bereaved family and friends to walk from 
the home to the place of interment. 

Early in 1728 John Preston, who ovmed a tract of land on 
the west side of College street, nearly opposite the Mary Lyon 
Chapel, offered to give three acres to be used as a resting place 
for the dead. It had been known as Sandy Hill, and, lying at 
the junction of two highways, it seemed a convenient place of 
burial. In February of this year he was called to Hadley, prob- 
ably owing to the illness of his parents. During his absence 
there occurred the death of an infant, and a message was 



EARLY LIFE IX SOUTH HADLEY 33 

sent to him begging him to return to South Hadley long enough 
to decide upon a place of interment. Being near the Connecticut 
he borrowed a canoe and came doyn the river to South Harbor 
(Smith's Ferry). After landing he threaded the narrow foot- 
path up to Sandy Hill, and located what was afterwards known 
as the Old Graveyard. Upon his return a cold rain set in, and 
the pitiless sleet fell ceaselessly upon the open boat. This ex- 
posure was followed by a severe illness. 

A town meeting had been appointed in Hadley for the pur- 
pose of ratifying his gift, and on March fourth the records tell 
us that it was voted: "Jno. Nash and Lieut. Jno. Smith be Im- 
proved to View the place, and Lay it out in such form and quan- 
titee as they shall think Best, not to exceed three Acres in quan- 
titee." It was on this very day that the donor breathed his last. 

Stalwart men brought John Preston home, for it would have 
been looked upon as an unparalleled disrespect if oxen or horses 
had been permitted to aid in the conveyance. He was interred 
upon the exact spot where now stands the Gaylord Library, a 
fitting memorial for the two generous men, one of whom gave the 
land and the other the building. His headstone, which has been 
moved farther west, bears the following inscription: 

JOHN PRESTON 
DYeD on MARCH Y 4 1727^ 
AGED 41 YEAR AND THE 
Y FIRST HERE BURIED 

He was buried with his feet toward the east in order that 
he might rise facing the dawn, where he believed that Christ 
would appear on the morning of the Resurrection. This prac- 
tice was continued in the Old Cemetery until after 1800. 

There was a curious superstition in regard to the treatment 
of honey bees, when, as sometimes happened, a death occurred 
in the family of their owner. It was a common belief that if the 
news of this event were not conveyed to these little insects, they 
might be angered and return to the wooded sides of Mt. Holyoke. 



34 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

The messenger usually selected, if one may judge from the old- 
time paintings of her, was a young girl clad in the habiliments 
of mourning, and carrying a piece of black cloth to place upon 
the hive. 

Mr. A., one of the farmers in this vicinity, has left us his ex- 
perience. Previous to his father's last illness the bees had all 
been carried into an unused chamber, in order to protect them 
from the wintry storms and snow. He said that just before his 
father's death they became restless and uneasy, and strange 
sounds were heard within the hive. This lasted for several days, 
but after the funeral the bees having been told what had hap- 
pened again became quiet. 

A New England poet thus describes the customary method 
of imparting this information : 

"Before them, under the garden wall. 
Forward and back. 
Went drearily singing the chore-girl small. 
Draping each hive with a shred of black. 
And the song she was singing ever since 

In my ear sounds on: 
' Stay at home, pretty bees, fly not hence ! 
Mistress Mary is dead and gone!' " 



CHAPTER THIRD 

EAKLY LIFE IN SOUTH HADLEY (CONCLUDED) 

NEIGHBORHOOD gatherings were far more frequent in 
olden times than at the present day, for whenever there 
was extra work to be done the young people promptly 
suggested having a Bee. 

We find from the records that on an average each family 
used from ten to fifteen barrels of cider a year. This, how- 
ever, was not intended wholly for use as a beverage. During 
the autumn fresh, sweet cider was boiled down into a syrup, and 
great kegs of cider apple sauce, more delicious than most pre- 
serves, were stored in the cellar for the winter's use. Its prep- 
aration entailed the paring, quartering and coring of many 
bushels of apples, and gave occasion for holding a paring bee. 

Upon the appointed evening the young men, with their jack- 
knives sharpened to a fine edge, repaired to the home of the 
hostess, whither the girls had already preceded them. The lat- 
ter were provided with long wooden trenchers, intended for the 
reception of the cores and parings, and the hearts of the maidens 
fluttered with uncertainty as to which of the comely swains 
would ask to share her trencher, and so work beside her through 
the flying hours. 

As they neared the end of their labors, each youth in turn 
selected a smooth, round apple and pared it carefully so that 
he might not break the skin. Taking this paring in his hand he 
whirled it above his head, then threw it upon the table. The 
judges decided which letter of the alphabet it most resembled, 
this being supposed to indicate the initial of the girl's name 
whom he was — in the parlance of that day — to see home. If the 
letter could be construed into an "S" or a "P," it was sure to be 
translated into Sally Piper, for that fun-loving damsel was a 
great favorite among her young companions, albeit she was on 
Sundays the despair of the tithing man, whose voice could some- 



36 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

times be beard balfway across tbe meeting house, "Attention! 
Sally Piper, attention!" 

After tbe apples were finished came games and refresh- 
ments. Wooden keelers were heaped high with nut cakes, — more 
familiarly known now as raised doughnuts,- — pewter platters 
were piled with squares of golden gingerbread, sweetened with 
maple syrup, since molasses must be brought from far. There 
were cheese and cider everywhere, but when the hour of nine 
arrived, cordial good-nights were exchanged, and the crowd of 
merry-makers went home. 

These social methods of bearing one another's burdens were 
a marked characteristic of both South Hadley and Granby. 
There were spinning bees, knitting bees, quiltings, chopping 
bees, mowing bees and husking parties; to say nothing of the 
raisings, which were always convivial affairs. 

At the raising of Dr. Dwight's new house (now the College 
Infirmary), he purchased a new washtub to be used as a punch 
bowl. The day was a rainy one and a shelter was erected in 
which to take refuge when the storm was too violent, and the 
impromptu punch bowl proved so alluring that even the deacon 
went staggering home. But this was before the days of the 
temperance reformation. 

The raising of a meeting house was an even more thirsty 
affair. Volunteers came from other towns to assist, and the 
cider barrel that had received several decanters of wine, was 
considered suitable for such occasions. 

Deacon David Nash went from here as a delegate to a neigh- 
boring town which was about to build a church. The committee, 
of which he was one, staked out the site, while the townspeople 
held a meeting and voted to ' ' procure a sufficient quantity of rum 
for raising the frame of the meeting house." 

Spinning bees appear to have been the ones that ranked 
highest in the estimation of our great-grandmothers. These 
were of two kinds. The first was an informal affair ; the girls in 
the neighborhood, between services on Sunday, agreed upon the 
day when and the house where they would meet. At the ap- 
pointed time and place all appeared, bringing their small wheels 



EAELY LIFE IN SOUTH HADLEY 37 ' 

and bunches of flax. The afternoon was spent in friendly gos- 
sip, with a bit of half-suppressed rivalry as to which of them 
would first finish her stent. Then home to supper, singing 
blithely as they went. 

The other kind of spinning bees were somewhat like a sur- 
prise party. If any woman were ill or unable to provide cloth- 
ing for her family, or if the minister's wife had a young babe 
to care for, then the elder women joined with the younger, and 
ox carts conveyed the large wheels to the desired place. Some 
carried flax or wool, others gave their time and work, but each 
one brought some article of food for the sumptuous repast that 
closed the afternoon, and at which the preserves were put up 
pound for pound, and the hung beef was beyond the imagination 
of any modern epicure. 

Prettiest of all were the children's knitting bees. Every 
child carried his or her stocking to the party. At a given signal 
each one put in a mark, and they knit with a swiftness and 
evenness that could find no parallel among the youth of to-day. 

The men and women of past generations, in Granby and 
South Hadley, strong both physically and morally, proved that 
the old-fashioned bees had not been held in vain. Their com- 
parative and mutual isolation from the outside world may have 
accounted in some measure for the social activity of these two 
towns. Hemmed in on the north by the Holyoke Range, and on 
the west by the Connecticut, they were bounded on the south 
partly by the river and partly by a line through, or near, that 
dreaded lair. Misery Swamp. Upon the east lay a strip of wood- 
land, broken only by a single cart track, so rough that about 
1760 the town was indicted for "not keeping in repair the road 
to Cold Spring." 

In the early years, when Granby and South Hadley were 
one, this seclusion seemed to make of it a miniature republic. 
There was no postal service, no stage route to give communica- 
tion with the outer world. 

Towns in this vicinity received and sent mail but twice a 
month, for the post-carriers had been allowed nine days in which 
to travel forty miles with their letters and papers. 



38 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

Each house here was a small apothecary shop, for in case 
of illness in the family no doctor could be obtained except by 
crossing Mt. Holyoke, or, making a wide detour around its base. 
And if a physician came, he charged for every visit eight times 
his usual fee. Ministers were at that era expected to bleed their 
parishioners if necessary, and to be able to administer calomel 
and other medicines. Parson Woodbridge probably had some 
medical knowledge, for his eldest son began practice as a physi- 
cian here in 1765. 

In this community of interests, they were able to build their 
own houses; manufacture their own clothing; provide their own 
lighting ; and raise crops which, with the aid of their hunting and 
fishing, furnished sufficient food for their families. 

The men were all farmers, even to the minister, but most 
of them had some other occupation. One was a carpenter, an- 
other a blacksmith, the third a tanner, while the shoemaker, the 
pumpmaker, and a score of others could meet any emergency. 

Exchange of labor, or as they termed it, "swapping work," 
and barter, left but few money transactions to be recorded. 
Their old account books read thus: the carpenter credits John 
Lane* with a twenty-two pound salmon, five shillings and adds, 
"John Lane, Dr. to mending your flore, seven shillings." The 
cobbler debits Joseph Hillyer. "To making and mending shews, 
3£ dew to me." "In ye yere 1732 to help mak smoak house, 3 
shil. 6d. " " Credit one fox skin 8 shil. 6d. ' ' 

The first pumpmaker in our town was Ephraim Nash, a 
man who might .justly have been proud of his lineage since he 
was a grandson of that eminent divine, Eev. Samuel Stone. He 
was one of the earliest settlers, coming in 1727, liut apparently 
found small opportunity for exercising his craft. 



♦John Lane was a famous athlete, a man of remarkable strength: It is said 
that he once asked a neighbor for the loan of a large iron kettle. She replied 
that he was welcome to the use of it, but it was so heavy she feared he could 
not carry it a long distance. Upon this he swung the kettle up, and placed it 
upon his head. He then carried it into the woods in order to use it in making 
maple sugar. He once walked from here to Westminster, Vermont, in a single 
day, a distance of over sixty miles. He was janitor of our iirst meeting house, 
sweeping the building with husk brooms, or birch twigs, and on Sunday morn- 
ings he went through the streets blowing a conch shell to remind people that it 
was time to assemble at the meeting house. 



EARLY LIFE IN SOUTH HADLEY 39 

People remembered the long well-sweeps and old oaken 
buckets, and distrusted the new invention. But after a time 
wooden pumps came into use, big, clumsy affairs, with a handle 
three or four feet long. The spout was a flat piece of wood, with 
projections upon two sides to prevent the overflow of water, 
which despite this precaution would spatter to a distance of 
several feet if the handle were moved quickly or with a jerk. 

The following account of their introduction was given to the 
author by an aged man, and though there is no definite proof that 
the incident occurred within our boundaries, it may not be 
uninteresting as showing the difficulties that Ephraim Nash was 
obliged to encounter: 

One of the progressive farmers of the town announced that 
upon a certain day, at nine o'clock in the morning, he would 
bring up water from his well without the aid of his iron-bound 
bucket. This promise was treated with derisive merriment, yet 
at the appointed time a crowd had assembled. They saw only 
a tall figure, shrouded in white, standing on the edge of the well, 
and beside it the farmer, who explained that something was 
wrong. He requested them to retire for half an hour to some 
place out of view and then return. The crowd departed with 
mocking laughter and jeering remarks. At the expiration of the 
time they came again, and saw to their surprise that the owner 
had divested his new pump of its covering. Lifting the handle 
he sent a stream of water into the waiting tub. When they had, 
as the old man said, "sensed it," it seemed to them like witch- 
craft, and they were quick to ask the owner's pardon for their 
previous gibes. 

During the last few decades, all, or nearly all, of these old 
wooden pumps have disappeared from our town. 

Wells played an important part in the household econ- 
omy, for they assuaged thirst, promoted cleanliness, were the 
only firewardens, and during the August weather were the most 
convenient places for the preservation of fresh meat and yeast. 
These articles were each put into a i^ail and suspended above the 
surface of the water by a cord which was attached to a small bar 
near the top of the curb. This rendered it at times a rather in- 



40 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

secure refrigerator, for if the cord were old, or carelessly tied, it 
was liable to drop, letting the pail and its contents fall to the 
bottom of the well. Lowering a lighted candle, the big, three- 
pronged well hook, — one of which must be kept in every neigh- 
borhood, — was now produced, and the subsequent fishing was 
apt to be a long process. 

Some inventive, or imitative, genius persuaded a few of our 
leading families to try a new experiment which, it was claimed, 
would obviate this trouble. An oblong pit was dug in the ground, 
in a shady place, its sides being stoned like those of a well. In 
winter this pit was filled with blocks of ice, carefully packed in 
hay, and thick planks were laid across the top. Over these was 
placed a roof, not more than seven feet in height at the apex, 
and slanting sharply to the ground. In one of the gables was a 
door, and a short ladder always lay beside it ready for use as 
the season advanced. By the middle, or at most by the last of 
July, the contents of the pit were all melted. 

A son of one of our early settlers, whose father had removed 
to Granby, determined to try building an icehouse above ground. 
This idea was scoffed at by our townsmen. "If ice could not 
be preserved under ground, it never would remain frozen near 
the surface, ' ' said they. Paying no heed to this adverse opinion, 
he proceeded to erect a stout reservoir, more than twelve feet 
square, and this he banked with earth till one might have ex- 
pected to see an ancient mound-builder issuing therefrom. 

Over the top of this he placed a one-roomed structure, which 
was known as the milkhouse or dairy. A trap door in the floor 
of the latter gave access to the chamber beneath. This icehouse 
was intended mainly for the preservation of food, since cold 
water for drinking purposes could be obtained at any hour from 
the time-honored bucket that hung in the well. A pipe had been 
so arranged that water could be easily pumped into the tank. As 
soon as the cold weather of winter had penetrated its thick walls 
to such a degree that it would freeze water, this huge cistern 
was flooded, to a depth of two or three inches, which by the next 
morning would be changed to ice. This process was repeated day 
by day until the tank was filled with a solid block of ice, twelve 



EARLY LIFE IX SOUTH HADLEY 41 

feet square, some part of which remained congealed until the 
ensuing autumn. 

The South Hadley yeomanry immediately patterned after 
this new device, but, as they believed, improved upon their model. 
In building their reservoirs, they inserted a door in the northern 
wall in order that they might fill it with blocks of ice from the 
nearest pond. These were obtained by cutting them out with 
axes or saws, but were so irregular in shape that after being 
packed great air spaces remained between them. This they 
remedied by closing up the door and pouring cold water from 
above till every crevice was filled. This formed a mass of ice 
that kept tlieir own food and that of their neighbors fresh and 
sweet through the sultry August weather. 

Improvements in arts and crafts were, at the first, almost 
wholly dependent upon the skill and ingenuity of the settlers, 
since their communication with the rest of the world was but 
limited. Letters and newspapers, which might have been such 
a solace, were in a great measure denied them. It was not until 
1792 that a postoffice was established in Northampton, which 
received and sent out a mail once a week. We know that South 
Hadley and Granby were allowed to share in its benefits, for in 
Northampton 's first list of unclaimed letters occurs the name of 
Joseph Eastman, Granby. During the next decade getting the 
mail proved to be an arduous undertaking, but on January 1, 
1803, to the great joy of our inhabitants, a postoffice was estab- 
lished here, probably bringing the weekly mail on Fridays. The 
former strictness in regard to Sabbath observance was so far 
relaxed that on Svmdays the postoffice was opened during the 
intermission between the morning and afternoon services, in 
order that those of the congregation who lived in remote neigh- 
borhoods could get their mail. It was argued that as the laws 
compelling church attendance under penalty of fine and imprison- 
ment had been repealed, this would prove an incentive for the 
worshipers to be present at divine service. 

In 1816 Northampton had three mails a week, and in case of 
illness or emergency, individuals going from here could obtain 
their Saturday night 's mail. The inconvenience of this arrange- 



42 IN OLD SOUTH HAULEY 

ment is well illustrated by the following extract from an old let- 
ter: 
Dear Sister- "South Hadley, Dec. 7, 1808. 

We have been long anxious, very anxious about you. It is 
bad getting to Northampton; Bachelor's Brook overflows, and 
there is ice in the river — but we can go over the bridge at Had- 
ley. 

We sent Horace on Simday after a letter, but he could not 
get over the river, on account of the wind being very high. In 
the evening we hired Barber to go, and he rode nearly twenty 
miles, bro't the letter, got here at eleven o'clock." 

Though the doings of the external world were but slightly 
known here before the Revolution, that was not the case in re- 
gard to local happenings. With the aid of social gatherings, the 
itinerant shoemaker, the school teacher who boarded round, and 
later on the tailoress and the dressmaker, who made semi-annual 
visits to each family, but little news remained untold. 

^he advent of the shoemaker and his bench was hailed with 
delight by both young and old, for it was a cardinal article of 
belief that everj' person should have each year a new pair of 
leather shoes: stout cowhide for the men; calfskin for the 
women and children. "Wlien the shoemaker came with his 
wooden lasts, lapstone and the implements of his trade, he estab- 
lished himself near the big fireplace, in order to use its light to 
work by in the evenings ; and his favorite ditty was : 
"There was a cobbler who lived in a coom, 
And all he wanted was elbow room, elbow room. ' ' 
He measured the feet of each member of the family, and if he 
had no last of their exact size, promptly shaped one out of wood. 
He always expected a pitcher of cider to be placed ready at 
hand. A certain family once forgot this requirement. Wishing 
to remind them of it, he tried to soften his request by putting 
it into rhjTne, and calmly remarked : 

"While here I set, and work and sweat 
By candle and by fire. 
My throat grows dry, I can 't deny 
Some cider I require." 



EARLY LIFE IN" SOUTH HADLEY 43 

Upon this the longed-for beverage was at once forthcoming.) 
The shoes were usually paid for in skins, which required a 
year's time for tanning into leather; but there was so little 
money in circulation that even the hired girl 's wages were paid 
by barter, as witness this extract from an old account book : 

"January, 1770. 
Elizabeth Lemon came Frydey night, Jan. 5, and tarried til 
Saterday noon. May 5, save two days. 

She hed two pair of shoes $1.98 

2 second-hand quilts (agreed) 98 

41/2 yards of shallon 2.00 

Money 2.00 

Shoes mended several times 20 

A Portion of Species Hiera Cure 20 

A check 'd Linnen Apron (agreed) 50 

Six coppers to balance 52 

$8.38" 

A servant girl's wages at this era averaged from fifty to 
seventy-five cents per week, but she was never called a servant ; 
she was known as the help, or as one of our later ministers 
dubbed her, "my wife's domestic coadjutor." 

This scarcity of money gave rise to many inconveniences, 
and among them may be numbered the dearth of h>Tnn books in 
the Sunday services of song. This compelled the "lining out" 
of the stanzas. Either a deacon or the precentor read the first 
line and the congregation then sang it, and each line was fol- 
lowed in the same manner to the end of the hymn. 

The old tuning fork which set the pitch was found in the 
garret of the old Woodbridge House. 

It was an old saying that a good singer could marry any 
woman that he pleased ; or, as an English poet expressed it : 
"A blockhead of melodious voice 
In boarding schools can take his choice." 

In providing good music for the sanctuary, South Hadley 
antedated many of the surrounding towns. In 1765 John Stick- 
ney brought to this vicinity new methods and tunes for singers. 



44 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

Nathaniel White was at this time a lad of sixteen, while his 
brother Ezekiel was five years younger. Both boys became so 
deeply interested that the elder one afterwards taught a singing 
school for twenty-six seasons, and the younger supplied his 
brother's place, it is believed, during the latter 's absence in 
the army. John Stickney, too, was so much pleased at his cor- 
dial reception here, that he eventually made this town his home, 
and the committee in charge of seating the people in church as- 
signed him a place in a big, square pew with two widows, one 
of whom he is said to have married. 

There had been another teacher of singing, Josiah Draper, 
the Fall Woods' schoolmaster, but his lack of patience disquali- 
fied him for this office. He was very nervous and if a pupil 
failed in keeping exact time it put him in a passion, and his 
penalties were severe. He was precentor in 1777, and judging 
from his diary, the number of tunes with which he had become 
acquainted was for those days surprisingly great. 

These three men, officered doubtless by John Stickney, had 
brought about a great change in our Sunday services. There 
had been a determined effort on the part of the young people to 
do away with the "lining out" of the hjrmns and to have the 
singing conducted by a choir, who should occupy the gallery op- 
posite the pulpit. This proposal had awakened a fierce storm 
of opposition on the part of the older members of the congre- 
gation, who declared they would not attend church under such 
circumstances. They protested against the extravagance of 
paying so much for new singing books, and were sure that it 
would be an entering wedge for the introduction of wooden and 
brass musical instruments into the meeting house, as indeed 
proved true. Their ancestors, they said, had come hither to 
avoid the set forms of prayer used in the Church of England, 
but now if they began to sing by rule they would soon pray by 
rule. 

Everyone had been taught six times, three for the forenoon 
and three for the afternoon service, and anything more was 
simply superfluous. 

Feeling ran so high in this and adjacent towns, that one 



EARLY LIFE IX SOUTH HADLEY 45 

minister complained of a certain ijarishioner, who refused to re- 
turn his salutation when they met, and entered in his diary, — 
"Several of my neighbors seemed very uneasy about the sing- 
ing, some, I fear, kept from meeting upon this account. Lord 
help and direct! Compose their minds that are ruffled! Oh, 
chain up Satan! Forgive and direct me." 

Tradition tells us that the first concession in South Hadley, 
was the omitting to line out the closing hymn on Sunday after- 
noon, permission to retire from the house having first been given 
to those who did not wish to listen to the choir. This arrange- 
ment did not satisfy either party It seemed to detract from the 
sanctity of worship to see a part of the congregation rise and 
file out with flashing eyes and angry stepc. The exciting events 
that culminated in the battle of Lexington, br'^nght our town 
into greater contact with the outside world, and a broader vision 
of the future opened before them. In 1776 the whole of ihe after- 
noon service, as far as the music was concerned, was given iiT) to 
the choir, and no longer could the sonorous voice of Josiah 
Draper ring out the words of his old-fashioned Psalm— 

"My soul gave me a sudden twitch. 

That made me nimbly slide. 
Like unto the chariot in which 
Amminadab did ride." 

With the advent of Dr. G. W. Lucas as the singing master, a 
new and varied list of tunes was introduced. He was a very 
tall man, of gentlemanly bearing, and polished speech. The 
singing schools were held in our old Mount Tom Academy, and 
he was often annoyed by the older boys who lingered near the 
fire after the hour for opening had arrived. One evening he said 
to them, "If those who have imbibed a sufficient degree of caloric 
will approximate to their seats, we can begin." Awed by the 
mingled dignity and length of words, the shivering youths 
obeyed. 

After the national and state quarrels had been settled, a 
musical war arose in South Hadley. The choir had been ar- 
ranged according to their rank, the best singer being placed at 



46 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

the head of the line, and the poorest at the foot. This gave rise 
to much bitterness and jealousy. One of the leading sopranos, 
who was angry because the minister's daughter had been seated 
above her, said rudely: "Who are you, anyway? Your father 
is supported by the town." In one family the eldest daughter 
had won tlie highest place at the head of the choir, while her 
sister was number three. As they had but one book between 
them, and wished to look it over together, they asked number two 
to change places with the younger sister. This she promptly re- 
fused to do, but offered to exchange with the elder one. The 
trouble increased as others to^L sides in the affair, and the mat- 
ter was finally referred to the minister for settlement. After 
mature deliberation, he decided that number two should sit at 
the head of the choir half of the time, but upon every alternate 
Sabbath should take her place as third, bringing the two sisters 
side by side at each service, and thus was harmony restored. 

These bickerings were done away with in 1835, when Mr. 
Dexter Ingraham was made chorister. He arranged his singers 
in the order of their ages, and remembering the old adage. 
"AVhere McGregor sits, that is the head of the table," he taught 
them that where the best singer sat would be the real head of 
the choir. He was a man whose heart was fully given to music, 
and for twenty-five years imparted his enthusiasm to his fellow 
musicians. He was succeeded, at his own request, by Mr. Wil- 
liam Smith, whose gentleness and tact kept the chorus of sixty 
voices united and peaceful for another quarter of a century. 
This chorus was led by an orchestra consisting of the large 
and the small bass viols, three violins, a bassoon, and a corno- 
peian, aided by the soft notes of a flute played by John Dwight, 
the donor of the art gallery. 

Deacon Hastings, for so many years the efficient superin- 
tendent of our Sunday School, presided over the big bass-viol, 
and Mr. Norman Preston, so highly respected and loved both as 
school teacher and "committeeman," was one of the violinists. 
It was not he, however, who went to the minister for permission 
to exchange the lines in the hymn book — 



EARLY LIFE IX SOUTH HADLEY 47 

' ' Oh, may my heart in tune be found 
Like David's harp of solemn sound." 

and sing in their stead, 

"Oh, may my heart be tuned within 
Like David's solemn violin." 

Our grandfathers used to tell us that the irate parson returned 
with ready satire, "Fine as your version is, Brother, I think I 
can suggest a better. How would it do to sing — 

"Oh, may my heart go diddle, diddle. 
Like Uncle David's sacred fiddle." 

Whether in South Hadley or not, the incident actually occurred. J 

There had been some opposition at first on the part of the 
ministers to admitting so much instrumental music. One of our 
pastors, who had no ear for the "Concord of Sweet Sounds," 
happened to come to church early one Simday morning, while 
the orchestra were turning their instruments. As soon as the 
service was concluded, he hastened to the gallery stairs, in order 
to meet the players on their way out, and informed them in a 
severe tone that he wanted no more dance music in his church. 
Another clergyman, not of our town, when the musicians sat 
down at the close of the anthem, opened his Bible at the twen- 
tieth chapter of Acts, and slowly began reading, — "And after 
the uproar was ceased ," there was a perceptible pause be- 
fore he finished the verse. 

The Psalms and Hjonns of Isaac Watts had now come into 
use, and so great was their iiopularity here and elsewhere that 
at the middle of the nineteenth century the publishers sold an- 
nually over fifty thousand copies, which was for those times a 
wonderful record. 



CHAPTER FOURTH 

FEOM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 

OUR first minister, having been for years a successful 
teacher, it is not to be wondered at that even before the 
completion of the meeting house, a school building was 
in course of erection, upon the site now occupied by the dental 
office of Dr. Preston. 

There must have been a school previous to this, and it is not 
impossible that our ancestors returned to the old English custom 
of having it kept in the minister's house, for the living room in 
our first parsonage was twenty-five feet long and twenty feet in 
width, and the fuel to heat it was supplied by the parish. It is 
a fact worthy of notice that the precinct did not vote to build a 
schoolhouse until about the time of Rev. Grindall Rawson's 
marriage, so that during his preceding years of loneliness he 
may have gladly welcomed the children of his parishioners. The 
schoolhouse when completed contained but one room. Across 
its southern side yawned an immense fireplace, nearly five feet 
deep and wide enough to take in logs eight or ten feet long. 

In order to sustain the winter fire, each boy — girls were not 
allowed to attend the public schools at this era — was expected 
to furnish a cord of wood ; and if any careless or neglectful par- 
ent failed to centribute his quota, his unhappy son was straight- 
way "sent to Coventry." This phrase meant that his fellows 
would neither speak to nor play with him, and that he would be 
scoffed at and jeered till the desired wood was forthcoming. 

The entire frontage of the schoolhouse was twenty-three 
feet, five of which were used in enclosing the rough chimney 
built of stones and hand-made bricks. Beneath the schoolroom 
was a cellar, a rare thing in South Hadley in those days, — but it 
had been excavated simply as a place of retreat in case of Indian 
attack. By means of an underground tunnel, it was connected 
with the cellar of the Woodbridge parsonage just across the 



FROM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 49 

street. Miss Nancy Burr, who taught in 1821, said that on 
rainy days the children often amused themselves by creeping 
in and out of the tunnel ; but now the earth has fallen in, and no 
trace of it remains. 

Around the sides of the room not occupied by the fireplace 
two series of boards were fastened to the wall, one above the 
other, a few inches apart. These served as desks to hold their 
scanty books and present a hard surface upon which they could 
use their quill pens in ciphering; for at that time slates and 
lead pencils were still unknown, and paper was so scarce and 
expensive that some of our ancestors used to "do their sums" 
with a sharp-pointed stick in the smooth sand outside — for our 
village center was at first known only as Sand Hill. 

For such pupils as were rich enough to atford paper, a wild 
goose must be shot in order to provide pens, and it was not the 
quills surmounted with long, handsome feathers that were in 
request, but those that were short and stubby; and the art of 
making them into pens was taught in our schools. A clay ink- 
stand in use here in 1740 has four apertures besides the inkwell, 
evidently intended to hold the quills which were thus at hand in 
case of breakage. 

Their ink was prepared by boiling the bark from an oak 
tree or a hard maple for several days, adding a little sugar to 
the decoction in order to give the writing a glossy appearance. 

This unfading ink has preserved for us the records, diaries 
and account books of our early settlers, which after one hundred 
and eighty years are still legible. 

Another process by which ink was manufactured was as fol- 
lows : Green peelings of walnuts were soaked in rain water for 
a fortnight; "Stir it pretty often," said the rule. To a quart of 
this solution, carefully strained, was added four ounces of oak 
galls, two ounces of gum arable, and in order to prevent it from 
molding, a little salt. The receipt concludes thus: "Let these 
ingredients stand together in a large stone bottle; shake, roll, 
or stir it well once each day, and in a month's time you will have 
excellent ink." 

In our primitive schoolroom, long benches made of plank 



50 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

extended in front of the rude desks, and upon these forms were 
seated the pupils, facing the wall, and with their backs toward 
the master. He, within the hollow square thus formed, kept, or 
at least attempted to keep, good order. If he caught sight of a 
boy whispering, playing, or grossly inattentive to his books, the 
ruler was thrown with unerring precision, and the detected 
culprit was then ordered to bring the ferrule back. Upon re- 
turning it he was sternly directed to hold out his hand, and the 
number and severity of the blows was in proportion to the 
gravity of the offense. 

The boys were expected to learn reading, writing, and the 
rudiments of arithmetic. As to spelling, the orthography of 
our ancient records would indicate that this branch of learning 
received but scant attention. Thus the name of Timothy Hillyer — 
in whose honor one of the peaks of Mt. Holyoke was christened 
Hilliard's Knob — was spelled in the old deeds in seven different 
ways. Even the teachers grew careless; a chair became a 
"cheer" upon which to "set" down; till at last a town official in 
hiring a new schoolmaster adjured him to be "Pertickler about 
the pronounce-ation of his words." 

A would-be instructor of youth advertising in our county 
paper, placed among his list of qualifications, "I teaches gografy, 
and all them outlandish things." In order to understand the 
full significance of this remark, it would be necessary to read 
one of the old geographies brought to South Hadley by Ephraim 
Nash, and others, a few extracts from which are subjoined. 

"There grows in some part of Russia, a strange sort of 
melon called Boranetz (i. e., the Little Lamb). In figure it re- 
sembles a lamb, and such is its vegetable heat that it consumes 
and eats up all the grass, or rather herbs, within its reach. As 
the fruit doth ripen, the stalk decays, and is covered with a sub- 
stance exactly the same with wool. A part of the skin of this 
remarkable plant is to be seen in the King of Denmark's public 
repository of rarities at Copenhagen. Many of the Muscovites 
use the skin of this rare vegetable instead of furs for lining of 
their vests." 

"Take a native Spaniard, strip him of his good qualities 



Mui/nfMj(3A'rjoN. 




Susan, licm iiiurh IS huiiic^\j>> Ins 30. 
Herause 9, muliipiici Ij. l-.iiiakes 30'. 



THK RTiniJIKNTS OF AKITHMETIC 



FEOM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 51 

(which may be quickly done), that person then remaining will 
be a complete Portuguese." 

"In Germany, near St. Omers, is a large lake in which are 
divers floating islands, most of them inhabited, and movable by 
ropes tied to strong poles, fixed fast in the ground." 

"There is a certain European island the northernmost part 
whereof doth frequently alter its longitude and latitude." 

In summer time the older boys worked on the farm, while 
the girls and younger children were expected to attend a dame 
school, taught by a woman, or by a superannuated schoolmaster, 
unable, on account of age or infirmity, to manage boys. 

The town, with unusual liberality, allowed some of the public 
money to be exijended in pajTuent of these teachers. Here the 
children were taught to knit, sew, and to read short words. The 
older girls learned to read the Bible, recite the catechism, and 
possibly to embroider samplers. Some of them were instructed 
in the art of writing. But the latter class were sadly in the mi- 
nority. 

A part of the dame schools were intended only for children, 
and were often taught by illiterate women, skilled, perhaps, in 
the art of amusing the young. We read that Tom's aunt, on a 
certain occasion, "Deposed verbatim, that the sade Tomme had 
been under her tuishuon laste summer, and had always behaved 
as a good skolur ote to du ; and she never had ketched him in a 
ly, or fib, in her lyfe." 

The following description of a dame school is derived, in 
part, from an old story edited by a schoolmaster, many years 
ago: 

Imagine a little story-and-a-half house, its rear roof sloping 
almost to the ground, and over whose unpaneled door hangs a 
signboard. Here were daily gathered the boys and girls of the 
neighborhood; little tots that needed to be carried over the 
rough places in the road, up to children nine or ten years of age. 

The dame sat in a high-backed chair, her throne of state, 
since she believed herself a model of social preeminence, for did 
she not rank, next to the minister's wife, as the first lady in the 
village? Towering above her head rose the crown of her tall 



52 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

mob cap, hiding thus the gray hair which proclaimed her three- 
score years. A snowy kerchief was pinned closely about her 
neck, and a white apron, trimmed upon three sides with a deep 
rufHe, concealed a part of her linen gown. At her side hung the 
indispensable work-pocket, containing strings with which to tie 
the hands of naughty children behind them, soft bandages for 
youthful hurts, and divers other articles that might be needed. 
Beside her stood a little carved table, upon which lay a nicely- 
trimmed birch rod. Every Monday morning the floor was 
spread with clean sand, and a fresh rod provided; for it was 
expected that the good dame would wear out at least one a 
week while keeping her little flock in order. The bare shoulders 
and feet of her pupils afforded an open field for chastisement, 
but oftentimes a threat of punishment was sufficient. If she 
caught a girl chewing the corners of her primer, she took up the 
rod with an "I'll teach you to munch your book as a rabbit 
does clover." But the tears and promises of the culprit gener- 
ally availed, and the sentence was commuted to a sharp rebuke. 

Even the very little children were taught to knit stockings, 
and up to seventy years ago, it was considered that the proper 
penalty for dropping stitches was to have the ears snapped with 
a thimble, or "finger hat," once for each stitch. But the dame 
was not always finding fault. There were times when her smile 
was so sweet that "Every little child's heart grew happy at 
seeing it." 

There was a great cupboard in one corner, where the books 
and work were kept. Into the bottom of this the infant class 
crept, when the dame was not looking that way, and here they 
"whispered and twittered like a nest of young wrens." 

Though it was then looked upon as far beneath the dignity 
of a schoolmistress to reason with her pupils in regard to bad 
conduct, yet the kindergartens of to-day will do well if they train 
up such strong and sterling men and women as came forth from 
that old oaken door, wreathed round with morning-glories, and 
crowned with the modest sign : 



FEOM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 53 

DAME SCHOOL. 

CHILDEEX TAUGHT TO BEAD. 

Previous to 1760 edueation seems to have made but slight 
progress in our town. Schoolmasters were hard to find, and we 
hear of their being "entreated" to come. Men who were college 
graduates, and had made teaching a profession, were in great 
demand, and were often employed up to extreme old age. One 
of these early schoolmasters was the town's first pauper. 
Samuel Mighill was the son of a minister. Graduating from 
Harvard at the age of nineteen, he came to Hadley during the 
following year, and was installed as master of the Hopkins 
Grammar School. Here he fell in love with a young woman, five 
years older than himself, whom he subsequently married. He 
removed to Connecticut, where he taught school for twenty-two 
years. At the expiration of this time, his heart turned once more 
to Massachusetts, and, deserting his second wife, he returned to 
Hadley, from whence he moved to Amherst, and eventually to 
South Hadley, coming here, probably, about the time when the 
precinct first voted to hire a schoolmaster. Some years later 
he made a public complaint that he " a Master of Arts, although 
still able to teach a small school, of late, people had refused to 
employ him in that business." He was now seventy-four years 
old, and his disposition, never perhaps of the best, may not have 
improved with age. 

The selectmen sent the constable. Deacon David Nash, to 
warn him that he must "depart and leave this district of South 
Hadley," lest he become a public burden. This was an insult 
not to be tolerated, and in November, 1759, Master Mighill sent 
to the court at Northampton a humble and pious letter, asking 
their advice in honeyed phrases, and praying that their worships 
and the honorable court "would consider his helpless and needy 
circumstances, and make such order for his relief and support as 
to law and justice belong." 

Now, the court had complete jiirisdiction in such cases ; the 
law empowered magistrates to dispose of paupers, "into such 
towns as they shall judge to be most fit for the maintenance and 



54 IN" OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

employment of such persons and families, for the ease of this 
country." 

Master Mighill's crafty appeal was not lost upon the court. 
The judge promptly decreed that this district should provide 
relief and support for him as long as he chose to remain a resi- 
dent of the town. He continued to live here, at public expense, 
until his death, which occurred ten years later. 

A few months after Mighill's successful appeal, South Had- 
ley was once more summoned before the court, this time upon 
the unaccountable charge of having failed to keep a grammar 
school the preceding year. 

The law of the commonwealth required that every town 
which contained a hundred families should have a school that 
would fit for college. But in a district like South Hadley, which 
at that time included 24,000 acres of land, and whose opposite 
boundaries were from six to ten miles apart, it would manifestly 
be impossible to collect all the pupils at one place, especially as our 
present smooth roads were then but bridle paths, or rough cart- 
tracks. The school had therefore been kept in rotation, two 
months at South Hadley Center, two at Falls Woods, and two at 
the inn of Deacon John Smith, which stood on the site after- 
wards occupied by the residence of the late Mr. Frank Taylor, 
in West Parish, now a part of Granby. 

The selectmen of 1760 had been very fortunate in their 
choice of an instructor for that year. Josiah Pierce had taught 
for twelve years in the Hopkins school at Hadley; he could read 
both Latin and Greek, and even preach a sermon if occasion re- 
quired. He was as good a farmer as teacher, and appears to 
have been the means of introducing the use of potatoes as an 
article of food among our forefathers, whose old account books 
show that in 1762 the price here was three dollars a bushel, and 
the largest amount taken by any one customer was two pecks. 
In the evenings, Master Pierce, who was said to have been a 
good "arithmeticker," had a class in ciphering. This may have 
been necessary from the fact that some of the older boys were 
required to work at home during a part of the day ; but another 
reason existed: the old arithmetics were but a brief collection 




We have twelve to suppei',\ve rn list divide 
this cake into 12 parts or Fractions. 



TEACHING AlUTHMETIl 



FROM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 55 

of rules, often with only one example given under each, so that 
the instructor was obliged to compose his own sums, or prob- 
lems, the copying and explanation of which required time, 
especially the Golden Eule, as the rule of three in proportion 
was then termed. 

In order that no infraction of law should go unpunished, 
Massachusetts had established a system of government well 
calculated to develop a generation of spies. When a crime was 
committed, he who reported it to the court received from one- 
third to one-half of the fine. In the present case against South 
Hadley the informer was the famous, or rather infamous, Joseph 
Ashley, whose name was to the populace as the red flag of the 
matador. 

At the opening of the court in February, 1761, the town's 
attorney, Hon. Charles Phelps, of Hadley, stated the facts in the 
case, with such a pleasing humility that the judge summarily 
ordered the indictment to be quashed. So the discomfited Joseph 
went home minus even his ferriage, to the great joy of his fellow 
citizens. He, however, continued in his role of informer with 
varying success, until he was driven from the place, at the break- 
ing out of the Revolutionary war. 

Josiah Draper was the next teacher to leave us a record of 
his personal experiences, not in an interleaved almanac, like 
that of Master Pierce, but on the stout sermon paper in use 
among ministers of that day. His character was one of strange 
contradictions; at one moment generous to a fault; at another, 
close and calculating. He was an ardent patriot, ready to do 
or suffer anything for his country ; yet upon the younger genera- 
tion, his punishments were so severe that he put even the Middle 
Ages to the blush. He was a constant attendant at church; as 
chorister, he set the tunes with his ancient pitch-pipe; and as 
precentor, he lined out the hymns as they were sung. 

Yet this same leader among men, after long years of service, 
was finally deprived of his office, because his habits of intemper- 
ance were past all enduring. One instance of his severity when 
under the influence of liquor was long remembered among his 
pupils. It was a bitterly cold day ; so much of the heat went up 



56 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

the wide chimney that those who sat at the rear of the school- 
room said that their numbed fingers could hardly hold their 
books. Thej^ asked permission to go to the fire. "Yes," answered 
Master Draper, grimly, "and I will make you warm enough to 
last all winter." He placed them in a row across the front of 
the fireplace, and piled on logs till the flames roared up the 
chimney. He allowed no one to step back, but kept them in that 
scorching heat till both faces and hands were blistered. The 
narrator of this incident added significantly, "No one asked to 
go to the fire again that winter." 

A true account of the brutalities that passed unnoticed in 
this old schoolhouse would seem hardly credible to the reader of 
to-day. It was an era of whipping, and every time a new master 
was hired, he was expected to enter the schoolroom on the day 
of opening with a large bundle of hazel rods under his arm (the 
latter shrub being considered a more efficacious means of disci- 
pline than birch), and carrying in his hand a hardwood ferrule. 
In the eighteenth century flogging was looked upon as the natu- 
ral penalty of crime ; and in the Eevolutionary Army, desertion, 
stealing, and like misdemeanors, were almost invariably pun- 
ished in this manner. 

Within the first week of the term there generally ensued a 
battle royal between the new pedagogue and the ringleader of 
the boys. If the former failed of being conqueror, his stay would 
be but brief. One of our old masters thus addressed his school: 
"Boys, there is one thing I cannot have, and I will not have; it 
is NOISE!" and he thumped the desk lustily with his fist. He 
was a man of great muscular strength, but lacking in that moral 
force which is so essential to success. 

On the third day, while the boys were walking around the 
room, talking aloud, and jumping from the windows, two town 
officials came in and dismissed the new master. Not so was Mr. 
W., who lived in town, working during the summer and teach- 
ing winters. If he caught one of his pupils whispering he was 
wont to remark, sardonically, that he knew of but one remedy, 
and that was red paint applied to the inside of the hand; and 
the ruler was then brought into requisition. 



FROM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 57 

One of the later teachers, Mr. C, invented a cruel punish- 
ment of his own. Placing a lead pencil between two fingers, he 
held them firmly together while he twisted the pencil round and 
round. This soon brought the most stubborn to their knees. 
The result, however, was that the boys rose en masse, and bring- 
ing in wood blocked him from the schoolroom, which he never 
entered again. 

But the masters were not all like this: there were men of 
dignity and worth, whose names were deeply graven in those 
little halls of fame that always find a lodgment in every human 
heart. 

Josiah Draper, in spite of his severity, continued to teach 
school for many years, the town, as was customary, giving him 
a piece of land. This was situated in Falls Woods, and here, in 
the summer time, he raised corn, and subsequently built himself a 
house. But in winter, while teaching, he still preferred "board- 
ing 'round, a week in each family," as he says in his diary. This 
meant that he would be the honored guest in a succession of 
visits; would sleep amid the linen-crested billows of the best 
feather bed, and would partake of the choicest viands the house 
could afford. If any family, through poverty or ill will, did not 
wish to receive him, their names would be placed at the end of 
the list, and would not be reached until it was time for the term 
to close. 

Should there chance to be in any neighborhood a house that 
was noted for its poor cookery and meager fare, where the brass 
warming-pan never removed the chill that lurked beneath the 
canopied splendor of the four-poster, then the kindly neighbors 
vied with one another in sending invitations to the unfortunate 
teacher, so that without too much discomfort the week would 
come to an end. 

And South Hadley was kind. Even poor old Samuel Mighill, 
in his letter to the court, spoke of the "charity, humanity, and 
benevolence," of its citizens. 

Boarding 'round was not always an unmixed joy, especially 
in summer, when the schools were taught by young women. It 
is not agreeable to be continuously in the lime-light, as was one 



58 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

of the South Hadley girls, who wrote thus of her introduction to 
a new boarding place : ' ' Opening the door, I beheld the whole 
family ranged against the wall in the exact order of their 
height, and looking like a pair of stairs. The mother stepped 
forward and said, 'Children, this is the Marm, and I want you 
to watch her, and do jest as she does, and talk jest as she talks, 
so as to grow up pooty ladies.' There was no place in which I 
could remove the dust of my day's work except the woodshed. 
Here, upon a wooden bench, stood a tin dipper and a dish of 
soft soap, also a coarse towel, upon which all the family had 
dried their faces and hands. 'Mabbe you'd like to wash,' sug- 
gested Mrs. H. At supper, platters of meat, potatoes, and 
bread, garnished the center of the table. As soon as the bless- 
ing had been asked, the children speared these articles with won- 
derful dexterity, and consumed their food with such rapidity 
that they were nearly half through before I was ready to begin 
my repast. It was all so new and strange that, though I went 
early to bed, I could not sleep. Presently through the thinly- 
boarded walls of my chamber I heard the voice of one of my 
pupils, praying. He said: '0 God, please to keep all houses 
from burning down to-night; and, God, please to specially 
keep our house from burning down to-night, cause the Marm 
is here.' Then, soothed and comforted, I fell into such a sound 
sleep that I did not waken until cockcrow in the morning." 
There were some teachers who needed not the usual injunction 
to "Make yerself to hum." Miss Mary N. one day called to 
her desk a boy with whose widowed mother she was then board- 
ing. He received what she called ' ' a good f erruling, ' ' he mean- 
while having no idea for what crime he was being punished. 
"There!" she said, when she had finished, "now we'll see 
whether you will make up faces at your mother the next time 
she tells you you are to have hasty pudding and milk for break- 
fast." 

Holding down a nail in the floor, balancing books on the 
extended arm, and other old-fashioned methods of punishment, 
remained in force during the winter schools until nearly the 
middle of the nineteenth century. But after 1820, both boys 



FROM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLF.GE 59 

and girls were admitted to the public schools at all seasons, and 
a much milder form of discipline prevailed in the summer time. 
Then if a boy whispered he was sent to sit with some good girl, 
whose example would be beneficial. 

Miss T., who taught in Moody Corner, had a variation of 
this method which seems to have been all her own. If a boy and 
girl were caught playing in school time, the right arm of the one 
was bound firmly to the left arm of the other ; the pair were then 
directed to knock at the door and show themselves to the resi- 
dents of three neighboring houses, the teacher, doubtless, watch- 
ing them from the window to see that her orders were carried 
out. 

The Dunce Block was intended for the indolent and stupid, 
rather than for the mischievous pupil. A section of log, about 
two feet long, was made smooth at both ends and placed up- 
right upon the floor. Upon this the delinquent was obliged to 
stand, wearing upon his or her head a tall, pointed cap of white 
paper, with the word DUNCE printed in large capitals across 
the front. 

Some of our old teachers prayed with their pupils before 
whipping them. But even these orisons were less dreaded than 
the old-time punishment of "sitting in a whig chair." This was 
never used except in connection with the oldest and most turbu- 
lent boys; for, as the offender was compelled to assume a sit- 
ting position with nothing to sustain his weight, the crouching 
attitude was soon productive of severe cramps, impossible to 
be borne. 

In looking backward, it must be remembered that the status 
of the teacher in those times was far different from that of the 
present. Then each school was a miniature kingdom, and the 
master, who chose to play the despot, found few to dispute his 
sway. 

Occasionally some teacher tried to dispense with rod and 
ferrule. The experience of one such master was given in the 
newspapers of that day. He attempted to lead his pupils to the 
right by reasoning with them. This failing, he tried to drive 
them through a sense of shame ; then he thought by praising to 



GO IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

flatter them into ■well-doing, till lie had "coaxed away his own 
authority." 

Now there chanced to be in the school a yonth whose too- 
indulgent mother had forewarned the master that her son was 
not to be corrected. This boy had begun to "throw down books, 
and huff out 'wills' and 'won'ts' with much emphasis." In 
despair, the master gave him one blow, upon which the boy 
kicked him and ran crying to his mother, who told him his 
teacher was a cruel blockhead. She immediately summoned 
her husband and bade him go and turn the master out of the 
school. He had but little liking for the task ; his wife, however, 
who wore the purple in that household, insisted. A meeting was 
held, and the neighbors came in to express their approbation of 
the instructor; but the mother continued to "huff and ding at 
those who espoused the cause of the master, calling their chil- 
dren beggars, liars, and ill-bred scullions." Quarrels ensued, 
and the article closed with a sneer at the man who was "Under 
the control of what some call Ribocracy." 

Methods of instruction, as well as those of discipline, 
changed with the passing years. The arithmetic of 1760 arro- 
gated to itself a supreme place in the schoolroom, claiming to 
be the basis of all arts, and therefore it ought to be understood 
"before other branches were meddled with." The most minute 
details were given in regard to its different subjects. The first 
unit of weight, it informed us, was "A corn of wheat, gathered 
out of the middle of the ear, and well dried." Thirty-two of these 
were supposed to equal the weight of a penny. Later the num- 
ber was reduced to twenty-four, and as the expression had 
changed to "grains of wheat," the table began, "Twenty-four 
grains make one penny-weight." ^Problems in arithmetic were 
also expected to do their part toward the moral as well as men- 
tal improvement of the pupils, as: "A gentleman told his son 
if he would be a good boy and attend closely to his school, he 
should have oue-half of the chickens, one-third of the turkeys, 
and one-fifth of the goslings that should be hatched that year. 
The number of turkeys was three times the number of goslings, 
and the number of the goslings was one-half the number of 



FIJOM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLI':(iE 61 

cbickeus hatched by five hens, setting on twelve eggs each. When 
they had grown, the boy carried his part to market and received 
fifty cents each for his turkeys, twenty cents for his chickens, 
and two shillings for his geese. Can you tell me how much he 
gained by being a good boy, besides the approbation of his 
parents and the im^Drovement he had made at school?" 

Copy books, too, were supposed to inculcate lessons of wis- 
dom. The oldest writing book to be found in South Hadley was 
brought here probably bj" one of the first settlers as a relic of 
his schooldays. The copy set on May 24, 1708, was: "Enter 
no serious Friendship with the mutilogonous man, for he can- 
not keep thy counsel." 

After the rhyming fever developed itself in this region, 
such copies as this were used: 

"Your delight and your care 
Will make you write fair." 
or 

"If you would live in peace and rest. 

You must hear, and see, and say the best."'^ 

For nearly a century our schools were both opened and 
closed with reading the Scriptures and prayer, and it was looked 
upon as a most disgraceful punishment when a pupil was re- 
quired to stand beside the master and face the school during 
the concluding exercises. 

J. W. Tuck, afterwards the Congregational minister at 
Ludlow, may have been the last to continue this practice, for 
al)out 1840 the recitation of Bible verses was substituted in 
place of the closing devotions. 

Mr. Tuck had been the pupil of the famous Miss N., of 
whom mention has previously been made, and of whom it used to 
be said that she whipped wisdom into her pupils, using the rod 
in moderation if she thought that would do, but unsparingly if 
she considered it necessary. But the gentle firmness of Mr. 
Tuck won both the respect and good-will of all about him, and 
it was only upon rare occasions that he found it necessary to 
call in the service of Doctor Birch. He taught in the small 



62 IX OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

schoolhouse, now used as a dwelling, on the east side of Am- 
herst Street, a little south of Bittersweet Lane. This building, 
erected about 1816, furnished a good illustration of the second 
period of schoolhouse architecture. 

Around three sides of the room, a long bench was fastened 
to the wall, with an elevated platform beneath it ; this was known 
as the Backseat, and was intended for the older pupils. In 
front of it were three tiers of desks and seats, each of the latter 
being a step lower than the one behind it, so that the aisles 
were like a little pair of stairs. Upon the east side stood the 
fireplace and a door opening into the entry. But before the ad- 
vent of Mr. Tuck the room had been modernized ; the desks 
placed in rows upon a level floor and all facing the same way, and 
the fireplace exchanged for a large box stove. 

The children and youth from Moody Corner and Pearl City, 
joined to those of "District Number Four," formed a school of 
from sixty to seventy pupils of all ages, from the ABCdarians 
to the stalwart boy already almost out of his teens. It was obvi- 
ously impossible for one teacher to hear such a multiplicity of 
recitations, and Mr. Tuck appointed two of the older girls as 
monitors, Clara Montague and Irene Moody, who assisted him 
by teaching the younger classes. Then the old, old story, so 
new and wonderful to every passing generation, repeated itself, 
and two days before his installation at Ludlow, Mr. Tuck and 
Irene Moody were married. There was one brief year of happi- 
ness, then she sailed out over the Unknown Sea, on the return- 
less voyage that awaits us all. 

Mr. Tuck, like other old masters, inculcated a deep respect 
for the ministry. Massachusetts had passed a law, some years 
before, making it obligatory for the ministers to visit the schools. 
Mr. Condit did this, and whenever he passed the schoolhouse 
during the recess or noon intermission, he beheld what in our 
day would be an unaccustomed sight. No sooner did his one- 
horse shay appear at the head of the street than all the games 
ceased. The boys were usually playing leap frog, jumping from 
a springboard, or having a series of Marathon races round the 
schoolhouse (the yard being then fully treble its present size), 



FEOM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 63 

and the girls and little children were honeycombing the opposite 
bank, in unconscious imitation of the mound-builders. 

Both parties immediately ranged themselves in lines on 
either side of the street, with the cry, "The minister is com- 
ing!" Wlien Mr. Condit reached them he leaned out of the 
chaise, bowing to right and left with a cheerful, "Good day, 
boys!" "Good day, girls!" The latter courtesied, while the 
boys scraped their feet backward, with an awkward obeisance; 
then the ceremony was over, and the old horse jogged on. 

We had another schoolmaster whose fame still survives. 
Daniel Paine was known far and near for his skill in managing 
unruly boys, and wherever there was a rebellion in school, 
other towns were sure to send for Master Paine. Not that his 
punishments were frequent, or unusually severe; but he had 
what Andrew Jackson called "The shoot in his eye." After he 
ceased teaching and was made a member of the School Commit- 
tee, he was always spoken of as Squire Paine. On examination 
days his closing remarks to the pupils were certain to end with 
this inspiring forecast: "Perhaps I see before me some future 
President of the United States. Remember, boys, that this of- 
fice is within the reach of the poor as well as the rich." 

When the jurisdiction of schools was taken from the min- 
isters and selectmen and given to a special committee, ap- 
pointed in each town for that purpose, some of the new mem- 
bers felt that Solomon in all his wisdom was not equipped like 
one of them. One of the wiseacres in this vicinity finished his 
examination day speech in this manner : ' ' Children, you are now 
slowly climbing up the Hill of Knowledge. But take courage; 
keep on; and do not forget that when you reach the summit, I 
shall be there to ivelcome you." These same semi-annual exam- 
inations held a most important place in the calendar. On the 
preceding day each girl brought a wash-dipper and a large 
piece of cloth. Some kind neighbor volunteered a dish of soft 
soap. A part of the boys were detailed to bring hot water, and 
with a sand bank near by, the scrubbing and scouring began. 
Meantime, the rest of the boys had gone in search of evergreen, 
which was festooned about the walls and windows ; the rusty old 



64 m OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

stove being concealed beneath a mountain of feathery asparagus. 
There was sure to be a crowd of visitors on the fateful day, and 
many teachers were sorely tempted to give out in advance the 
list of questions that they intended to ask their dullest scholars. 
This practice, however, did not always turn out according to 
their expectations. The old folks used to tell of a schoolmaster 
who had one pupil so stupid that he positively could not learn 
anything. So on the day before the examination he told this 
boy that he should ask him, in the geography class, "What is 
the shape of the earth?" and directed him to answer, "It is 
round like a ball or orange." Now, at this time, the habit of 
using tobacco was almost universal, and it was considered cour- 
teous for the master to offer his snuff box to visitors. The one 
that he usually carried was square, but he had a new one for 
Sundays that was round, and this he promised to bring the fol- 
lowing day and hand to the committee if the boy forgot his les- 
son. This, as might have been expected, he did, and to the ques- 
tion could only return a "I dunno." "Think a moment," said 
the teacher, encouragingly, as he took out the new snuff box. 
"I know," cried the boy eagerly. "It is round, sir, on Sundays, 
and square the rest of the week. ' ' 

Many were the revelations of the schoolroom. Mr. E., the 
oldest man in town, tells of a boy in his class who was learning 
the alphabet. He gave correctly the names of Q, R and S, but 
could not tell what T stood for. "What did your mother drink 
at breakfast time this morning?" asked the teacher, and the 
pupil answered truthfully, "Rum and molasses, sir." 

Mr. Carter could seldom refrain from a smile when telling 
of his efforts to teach a stupid and overgrown boy, who lived a 
long distance from school. "C-er-a-er-k-er-e-er," he drawled 
one day at recitation. "Well, what does c-a-k-e spell?" asked 
Mr. C. The boy shook his head despairingly. " Think what you 
have in your dinner pail, and try it once more," urged the mas- 
ter. The boy began, "C-er-a-er-k-er-e-er. Didn't brung the 
same things to-day that I did yistiddy; brung slapjacks to-day." 

About a century ago there began to be a marked revival of 
interest in the art of spelling. The teachers vied with one an- 



FROM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 65 

other in producing long fourteen-syllabled words, which trained 
the memory, but were of little practical use. One of their favor- 
ites was Ho-no-ri-fi-ca-bi-li-tu-di-ni-ta-te-bus-que, and was 
spelled in this way: "H-o Ho, there's your ho, n-o no, there's 
your no, bono, there's your bono, r-i ri, there's your ri, honori, 
there's your honori, and so on to the end. The banner pupils 
could reverse the process and spell it backward in the same way. 

Spelling schools have been often described, but few writers 
have alluded to the joy and glory of the encounter, when one 
district challenged another to "match up sides." Each school 
appointed its best speller as leader, and they severally chose a 
picked crew from among the brightest pupils of their respective 
districts. 

On the evening in question, each boy and girl among the 
challengers brought a tallow candle and a potato or turnip to 
be hollowed out and used as a candlestick, so that the visitors, 
upon their arrival, found the room ablaze with light. The judge, 
who had been mutually agreed upon, stood up and gave out the 
words, at first easy ones, but finally coming to Phthisic, Feoff- 
ment, Hautboy, etc. The contestants were arranged in two 
lines facing one another, and if a pupil failed on a word (only 
one trial being allowed), his or her opposite spelled it, and if 
correctly, the leader on the latter side called over one of the op- 
posing faction to augment his own strength. Sometimes the 
leader alone was left, and consequently obliged to spell every 
alternate word ; but this often resulted in stemming the tide of 
victory and bringing defeat to his opponents, since he could call 
back the best spellers from both sides. After this, if time per- 
mitted, came a bout of spelling down. Each pupil, who missed 
a word, was immediately seated, till none were left. 

Teaching was not a lucrative profession. Our district rec- 
ords show that a dollar a week in summer and a dollar and a half 
in winter, boarding 'round, was looked upon as fair pay. 

Some of these old records are interesting reading. Pearl 
City District voted that every member who failed to set out a 
tree in the schoolyard that summer should be fined fifty cents; 



66 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

and if he did not assist Harry Smith in leveling the ground his 
fine should be double. 

Falls Woods voted that any pupil who used profane lan- 
guage in the schoolhouse yard should be punished; for at this 
time the moral and religious education of the young was deemed 
a matter of paramount importance. Teachers of children were 
required to show certificates that they were persons of sober 
life and conversation ; and the law directed that in early stages 
of life they should instill a sense of piety and virtue, and teach 
decent behavior. 

When a master came to us from another town, he must bring 
with him a certificate from his minister and the selectmen, stat- 
ing that he sustained a good moral character. If the Rev. Joel 
Hayes, during the last forty years of his pastorate here, with 
the consent of the selectmen, had allowed an instructor to teach 
in our public schools without such a certificate, he and they 
would have been subject to a fine, one-half of which went to the 
informer, and the rest to the poor of South Hadley. 

Master Hiram Bagg was one of our teachers who held firmly 
to Solomon's dictum in regard to the training of youth, that 
"the rod and reproof give wisdom," and he maintained such 
good order in his schools that his services were constantly in 
demand. He usually began the term with these words: "If 
scholars try to be good they always find me the kindest and 
pleasantest man you ever saw, BUT — , ' ' and the unfinished sen- 
tence carried more weight than a dozen threats would have done. 

Soon after came the transition from master to mistress in 
our winter schools. This change was not easily effected. Miss 
T. taught for several summers in the Center District with such 
marked success that the Committee felt justified in offering 
her a position in the winter school. This was an innovation 
indeed ; a woman to teach big boys ! Her friends all begged her to 
refuse, but she bad confidence in herself and accepted the ap- 
pointment. The result of the experiment, however, was such a 
mortifying failure that she immediately learned dressmaking, 
and as long as she lived never again taught school. 



FROM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 67 

It was rumored that the Prudential Committee in District 
Number Four had hired the daughter of a minister in a neigh- 
boring town to teach their winter school. There arose a great 
cry against it, for the policy had always been to employ home 
talent, and the public money, they asserted, should be kept in 
the town. 

The young woman came ; strong, purposeful and with abun- 
dant tact; before the close of the term the whole district were 
ready to kneel at her shrine, and the dynasty of men as teachers 
in Number Four was at an end. 

With the advent of women in our winter schools the style 
of punishment was changed. Such brutalities as "sitting in a 
whig chair," "holding down a nail," etc., were dropped and 
milder penalties substituted. One Granby teacher earned the 
perpetual hatred of her pupils by introducing the use of leather 
spectacles which, covering the eyes, entailed temporary blind- 
ness and gave the offender ample time in which to reflect upon 
his ill doing. 

Very young children were now admitted to public schools, 
and the little three-year-old girls were distinguished as Totty 
Smith, Totty Clark, etc. They were placed at the foot of the 
primer class and taught the alphabet. The first question to be 
asked them was, "Who made you?" and they were taught to 
answer, reverently, "God;" but they sometimes developed an 
unexpected theology of their own. One little tot, in reply to a 
teacher's question if she did not think God was very good and 
kind to give her her little feet to run about with, answered, 
stoutly, "No. Dod wanted to div me my little feet. He didn't 
want to see me stumpin' round the house and backin' down 
stairs." 

At the head of this class stood the children who could read 
c-a-t, cat, d-o-g, dog; and sometimes a boy who was in words 
of four letters. One of the latter, without a thought of irony, 
persisted in reading goat g-o, go, a-t, at, go-at, and the only 
specimen in the vicinity always justified that pronunciation of 
its name. 



68 IN" OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

This class learned many improving rhymes, such as : 

"Sixty seconds make a minute, 

Sixty minutes make an hour; 
I wish I were a little linnet, 

Sitting in her leafy bower. 
Then I should not have to sing it — 

Sixty seconds make a minute. 

"Twenty- four hours make a day. 

And seven days will make a week; 
I'd rather jump upon the hay. 

Or play at charming hide and seek, 
Than count the hours that make a day, 
Or tell the days that make a week. 

"Four weeks will make a month, 

And twelve whole months will make a year ; 

Now, I must say it o'er and o'er, 
Or else it never will be clear ; 

So once again I will begin it — 
Sixty seconds make a minute." 

The teachers composed simple rhymes for their pupils to 
learn. The following by a country schoolmistress was consid- 
ered her masterpiece, and was given here at the close of school 
on examination days. 

"Parents and friends, we're very glad 
That you have come to-day 
To listen to the simple things 
"We children have to say. 

"We learn to read, we learn to spell. 
We learn to write and cipher, too. 
And hope to act our part as well 
In life as our dear parents do. 



FROM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 69 

"Some of us will be ministers, 
And some will lawyers be, 
Doctors, merchants, farmers, too, 
Upon these seats you see. 

"But this is future, none can tell it. 

We may be men of might and dollars. 
But all we ask for now's the credit 
Of being very decent scholars. 

"Parents and friends, our task is done. 
My speech is now quite through. 
With your permission, honored sir (bowing to the 
committee), 
I leave the floor to you." 

The lead pencils that first came into use were almost in- 
delible. It was customary in some of our schools for the teacher 
to make a large "X" upon the forehead of every pupil who mis- 
behaved. This served a double purpose; it was a present dis- 
grace, and, its significance being understood, it made known to 
the parents at home the guilt of the offender. 

One schoolmistress provided herself with small wooden 
pegs, and whenever she caught a pupil in the act of whispering, 
one of these was placed in such a manner as to distend the 
mouth, rendering speech impossible. But this method of disci- 
pline was of short duration, for the children soon grew expert 
in the art of moving and replacing the peg with the tongue, and 
by holding the mouth open when the teacher was looking that 
way they were able, while hidden behind the big slate and bigger 
atlas, to greatly abate the rigor of this punishment. 

It was not until the time of the Civil War that the teachers 
learned the full meaning of the old lines: 

"O'er wajTvard childhood wouldst thou hold firm rule. 
And sun thee in the light of happy faces ? 
Love, Hope and Patience, these must be thy graces. 
And in thine otvn heart let them first keep school." 



CHAPTER FIFTH 

FROM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE (CONCLUDED) 

SO MUCH has been written in regard to Mary Lyon's School 
for Girls, people are in danger of forgetting that a famous 
boys' school was also located in South Hadley. 

Soon after the Rebellion of 1786, Col. Ruggles Woodbridge, 
who was now the wealthiest man in town, began the building of 
his beautiful home, now owned by Mrs. Hollingsworth. The 
ornamental carving within was all hand work, and a well-known 
antiquarian once said that it was amongst the finest in the State. 
The large house, with its curiously paneled doors, was at first 
but a lonely home. Col. Woodbridge had been one of a family of 
eight children, and, including visitors and servants, his father's 
household had never been a small one. He had never married, 
since most of his life had been spent in an era of continual ex- 
citement on account of impending conflict or actual warfare. 
Even in the later insurrection it was he who gathered a small 
party of men at the old Woodbridge Parsonage, ready for bat- 
tle, until finding from his scouts that he would be outnumbered 
by Shay's men, and lives would be sacrificed in the fight, he be- 
came convinced that prudence forbade his making a sally. But 
if the present quiet of his dwelling grew irksome, his active mind 
soon devised a remedy. He had always been a friend to the 
education of youth, his own college course having been of great 
assistance to him in life. 

He was an original thinker in advance of his time, and his 
theses during his curriculum often puzzled the professors. He 
now decided to open the "Woodbridge School for Boys," and 
it met with such success that he was compelled to make one 
addition after another to his house, till people said that if it had 
a few more wings it would be able to fly. Hartford and New 
York City alone sent thirty students. The first teacher was 
Samuel Ely, but the Colonel was head master as far as discipline 
was concerned. 



FROM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 71 

A single example will illustrate his methods. After some 
years of faithful service, Jerusha, the "hired girl," received an 
advantageous offer of marriage from a well-to-do farmer, who 
was also the precentor at church. Her kindness to the boys had 
been so great that Col. W. not only presented her with a set of 
furs, the muff of which was two feet long, but also offered to 
give her a wedding. On the day before the ceremony a bride's 
loaf of rich cake was carefully frosted and placed upon the 
upper shelf in the pantry. About midnight, a venturesome youth 
stole downstairs barefooted, captured the cake, and bore it in 
triumph to the third story. The boys then lowered it and them- 
selves to the piazza roof, and climbing down to the ground, went 
into the orchard to eat it, leaving no telltale crumbs to betray 
their exploit. Next morning there was great excitement; the 
teachers said the boys who had done this should be expelled. 
"No," answered the Colonel, "that would disgrace them for 
life. I think I know of a better way." 

After conducting the morning devotions, he asked every 
pupil to look him straight in the eye, and his keen vision singled 
out the culprits by their guilty blushes. "His eyes bored right 
through us like a gimlet," said one of them afterwards. The 
teachers agreed that these lads should at least be locked in their 
rooms during the wedding. Again Colonel Woodbridge said 
"No." He told the midnight marauders that every one of them 
must be present at the ceremony, but if any of them, when the 
cake was passed, ventured to take a piece, he would be expelled 
the next morning. Fifty years later these lads used to say that 
Colonel Woodbridge had been the making of them. 

The pupils were obliged to dress in uniform, and on Sun- 
day march two and two into church with military precision. 
Every Sabbath morning they had a Bible lesson at home, and 
every day at the close of school each boy recited a verse of 
Scripture. 

Most of the pupils came from old and aristocratic families. 
They wore tall hats, which gave great offense to the town boys, 
and there were frequent collisions in which fists were freely 
used. These quarrels were discountenanced by the teachers, 



72 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

and after some of the South Hadley boys entered the school a 
semblance of peace was maintained. 

A long list might be given of the governors and other leading 
men of Massachusetts, who were educated in this school, which 
ranked high in its intellectual as well as its moral influence. 

The following advertisement appeared in an old Hampshire 
Gazette : 

"Boarding School. 

"Miss Wright's School will commence in this town 
the first Wednesday of May next, where the usual 
branches of education taught in her school and in other 
female academies will be duly attended to. 

"Particular attention will be paid to the manners 
and morals of those who may be committed to her care. 

"South Hadley, March 25, 1809." 

The plan for this, as well as that of the boys' school, origi- 
nated with Colonel Woodbridge, and for the preceding six years 
it had been a decided siaccuss. 

Previous to 1800, girls appear to have been excluded from 
our public schools, except for a few weeks in the early summer. 
Any woman who could read in Gumming 's Catechism, sign a 
deed if necessary, and was able to calculate how much eight 
pounds of butter would come to at seventeen cents per pound, 
was looked upon as having all the education that was needful, 
or in any way befitting her sphere. But in 1803 the progress 
toward modern methods received a new impulse from the in- 
stallation of our first postoffiee, and the establishment of Miss 
Abby Wright's School, one of the very earliest academies de- 
voted exclusively to girls that was opened in Western Massa- 
chusetts. Miss Wright was for those times a lady of rare culture, 
and though she taught the most exqiiisite needlework, was still 
more careful to see that her pupils were well grounded in 
mathematics and other essential branches. 

A few extracts from Miss Wright's journal and letters may 
give a brief glimpse of her school: 

"South Hadley, July 22, 1803— My school is very agree- 



FROM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 73 

able, though the attention they require renders my task pretty 
laborious. The scholars are very ambitious and I am glad to 
encourage them. I tell them they may come as early as they 
please and I will attend to them. Sometimes they come in at six 
o'clock in the morning. I am of the opinion that ten shillings 
per week is not enough for such a school, but when I wrote to 
Col. "Woodbridge I set my price at that and did not limit the 
number, though I did not expect there would be more than 
twenty scholars." 

"South Hadley, Jan. 25, 1804 — I have an excellent place to 
board, which is in the family of Dr. Stebbins. They live in a 
kind of genteel snugness, and Mrs. S. has not failed to show 
herself as friendly as a sister on every occasion in which I have 
needed the assistance of a friend." 

"May 29, 1804 — My school goes on cleverly, and I have no 
reason to regret staying here. I keep in Mr. Goodman's hall a 
very convenient room. Five or six young ladies from Granby 
who attend my school board at Dea. Joseph White's. The 
number who have applied for admission has exceeded my expec- 
tations. I admitted forty and applications were made until I 
positively refused to take another. The major part of them 
are from out of town, are from fourteen to twenty-one years 
old and upward, and are in general very studious and attentive 
to the rules of propriety. 

"The school has acquired a greater degree of celebrity than 
I wish and I believe much greater than it deserves. On many 
accounts this is an excellent place for a female academy. It 
is pleasantly situated, very healthy, and there are few objects to 
divert the attention of the scholar. ' ' 

"August 3, 1805 — I am now boarding at Eev. Joel Hayes. 
I had the honor of riding out with him — on Col. Woodbridge 's 
best horse — to \'isit at Rev. Mr. Gridley's. Mrs. Hayes, Dr. 
and Mrs. Stebbins, Mrs. Dwight, Mr. and Mrs. Joseph White, 
rode in carriages." 

Two days later she writes: 

"August 5, 1805 — We called in Springfield to see a piece 
of needlework lately executed at a celebrated school in Boston. 



74 m OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

It was an elegant piece, and yet I have some in my school which 
I should not blush to compare with it, if the expense of each 
might be admitted in the comparison. The piece I refer to was 
wrought by a Miss Lyman, in memory of both her parents. It 
consists of a large willow, a monument, and two urns, the figures 
of a lady and gentleman and a little boy. The expense of the 
limner in drawing and painting the faces was eight dollars, and 
six months spent in Boston in working it." 

The following sensible advice was given to her pupils upon 
the opening day of the term : 

"Perhaps in no period of a woman's life is her conduct more 
criticized and her actions more liable to censure than when at- 
tending a boarding school * * * Be diligent, then, in im- 
proving your time; content not yourselves with being merely 
pretty or agreeable, but endeavor to be useful. Remember that 
amusement is not the business of life, but use it as a relaxation 
from its cares that you may return to its duties with redoubled 
ardor, and remember that the more good you do the more happi- 
ness you will enjoy." 

A short extract from her farewell address to the members 
of the graduating class will illustrate the spirit and character of 
her teaching: 

"My Dear Girls : You are now arrived at an age when your 
characters are to be established for life. How necessary is it 
that you have some fixed principles by which to regulate your 
conduct, for she who is governed by the influence of the present 
moment, who acts without thinking and thinks without reflect- 
ing, is as sure to run into improprieties as the seaman who sails 
without a pilot or compass is to dash upon the rocks. * * * 
Let books be the constant companions of your lives, accustom 
yourselves every day to spend a little time in reading and let 
the Holy Scriptures make at least some part of your studies." 

The termination of this school was a source of deep regret 
to the people of South Hadley, but all were glad that Miss 
Wright, as the wife of Captain Peter Allen, would remain a 
member of the town. The marriage proved to be a happy one, 
and in her hospitable home, which stood just in front of the pres- 



FEOM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 75 

ent Pearson Hall, Mary Lyon was a frequent and always wel- 
come visitor, especially while the Seminary Building was in 
process of erection. It was said that Mrs. Allen's age and ex- 
perience enabled her to be of great use to Miss Lyon during this 
period. 

Her commanding influence made her a power in the church, 
and she was the acknowledged leader in all benevolent enter- 
prises. Her death occurred in 1842, in the sixty-ninth year of 
her age, and her funeral sermon was preached from the text: 
"Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints." 

On a bleak hillside in Buckland, near the door of a small 
house, a young girl was standing. She looked toward the stone- 
walled pasture, where the sheep were leisurely browsing, for 
she knew that from them must come the thick, woolen dress 
for her daily winter wear — always a red dress, everyone said 
red was such a durable color. But she knew the wool must first 
be carded and spun, dyed and woven, and already she was learn- 
ing to knit, spin and weave. In the field of flax near-by slie saw 
the brown linen gown for summer's use, but swingle, and hetchel, 
wheel, and loom must each do their appointed task. As she 
mused, a voice from the doorway called, "Mary!" and she could 
easily guess the duty that awaited her. The long potatoes of 
that day formed an essential part of the midday meal, and since 
there was no stove in the house they must be roasted in the hot 
ashes of the big fireplace. People were at this time expected to 
eat the whole of the baked potato, including the outer covering, 
or skin. In order to do this, every trace of the ashes must be 
removed before bringing them to the table. The wings of the 
wild turkey furnished the substitute for our modern brushes, 
and it was a frequent request in the Lyon household that Mary 
should be the one to "wing the potatoes, because she makes them 
so clean." By these habits of patient industry, Mary Lyon 
was laying the foundations of a character which would eventu- 
ally win her an honored place in the Hall of Fame. 

In spite of poverty, her early home was a happy one. Most 
of the food and clothing for the seven children was supplied 



76 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

by the little farm, and there was always something which they 
could share with a neighbor more in need than themselves. 
Though they had but few conveniences, their lot was but the 
common lot of all, for even in the minister's dwelling there was 
no stove. Our necessities were their luxuries. 

Before Mary had completed her sixth year a dark shadow 
had fallen upon the household, a shadow that was never wholly 
lifted from their lives. In December of 1802, her father became 
alarmingly ill. On the day before his death he was constantly 
repeating "Thou art my rock and my fortress, my high tower 
and my deliverer," and other kindred texts. It was the com- 
mon belief that a peculiar sanctity was attached to the words of 
those who were approaching death, and children were often car- 
ried for miles in order to receive what was termed the Dying 
Blessing. On the following morning Mr. Lyon summoned the 
family to his bedside and spoke tender words of farewell. The 
baby in the arms of her elder sister added pathos to the scene 
by calling now and then, in a pitiful little voice, "Papa! Papa!" 
Bidding them cling more closely to each other and always love 
one another, he added: "My dear children, what shall I say to 
you? God bless you, my children. " These were his last words. 

The girlhood of Mary Lyon was an uneventful one. Her 
teachers found her an apt scholar, diligent, quick to learn and 
possessing a most retentive memory. She was fond of books 
and might often be found in a corner of the kitchen preparing 
her lesson for the next day's recitation. 

Her leading characteristic at this time appears to have been 
her deep reverence for the sacred hours of the Sabbath. In 
pleasant weather it was the fashion for the members of the con- 
gregation, during the intermission between the morning and 
afternoon service, to stroll out into the old burying ground. 
Here they ate their simple lunch and talked in low, subdued 
tones. It sometimes happened that a group of young people met. 
and, freed from the restraining presence of their elders, indulged 
in light conversation, which seemed to her ill befitting the day. 
Upon such occasions she always left them, and the silent re- 
proof of her example was perhaps more potent than words. 




^ 






FROM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 77 

In the present age it is difficult to realize the strictness in 
regard to the observance of the Sabbath which prevailed a cen- 
tury ago. Then no beds could be made, nor rooms swept until 
after sunset, and in many families no cooking of food was al- 
lowed on the Lord's Day.* 

Miss Lyon never permitted either herself or her pupils to 
write letters on Sunday. About 1840 one of the students in 
Mount Holyoke Seminary, whose mother was ill, asked permis- 
sion on that account to write her on the Sabbath. In South Had- 
ley the mail closed in the morning at nine o'clock. Miss Lyon 
asked her pupil if she could not write a letter on Monday before 
the mail went out. The gii'l replied that it would be impossible, 
as she had a recitation in Logic at eight o'clock. "Then," said 
Miss Lyon, "I will excuse you from the recitation and you can 
write your letter at that time." 

A pupil once asked her if she considered it a sin to write 
religious letters on the Sabbath. Her reply was: "If you are 
deeply interested in the conversion of an impenitent friend, I do 
not say that it would be wrong to write to her on Sunday, but 
think how much greater weight the letter would carry if written 
during recreation hours." 

She was equally strict in regard to herself. Upon one occa- 
sion she waited in Buffalo for the stage which was to convey her 
to her sister's home, waited from Saturday morning until four 
o'clock in the afternoon. When it came she found that by tak- 
ing it she could reach her sister's house early the next morning. 



* A grandson of Jonathan Edwards left us the following description of a 
Massachusetts man: "However busy the season, even when his crops were 
exposed to destruction by rain, he dismissed all the laborers so early on Satur- 
day afternoon as to enable them to reach their own homes before sunset — 
the time when be began the Sabbath. His cattle were all fed, his cows milked, 
the vegetables tor the ensuing day prepared, and his family summoned together 
previous to this sacred period. Until nine o'clock he spent the evening with 
his household in reading and prayer, and at this moment they uniformly re- 
tired to their beds. No room in his house was swept, no bed was made, nor 
was any act, except such as were acts of necessity and mercy in the strict 
sense, done until sunset on the succeeding day, when in his opinion the Sab- 
bath terminated." 



78 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

but felt that it would be a profanation of holy time to travel on 
Saturday night, and accordingly remained in Buffalo until the 
following Monday. 

In the busy days of her early womanhood, Mary Lyon found 
little time for youthful love and romance. After she became a 
teacher, however, an incident occurred which showed her entire 
devotion to the cause of education. A young man, whose birth- 
place was but three or four miles from our South Hadley church, 
studied for the ministry and entered the missionary fields in 
what was then looked upon as the Far West. He spent two 
years in teaching the whites and Indians and then came East in 
order to find a wife who could assist him in his work. He con- 
fided his wishes to a friend, who suggested that Mary Lyon was 
well suited to this position. The young minister called upon 
Miss Lyon, and as a missionary's wooing was often a speedy 
one, after two or three interviews he asked her to marry him. 
She thanked him for the compliment he had paid her, but gently 
told him that her mind was so filled with plans for the elevation 
and improvement of schools for young women that she had room 
for but little else. She added, however: "I will do better for 
you than to marry you ; I will introduce you to one of my friends, 
who is jtist suited to be your associate in this work, and who 
will, I feel sure, make your home a far happier one than I could 
ever hope to do." The young man followed her advice, and the 
wife proved a willing and able helper. 

This was not the only occasion upon which Mary Lyon was 
compelled to explain to a disappointed suitor the high purpose 
of her life. Even after the Seminary Building was well on its 
way toward completion, a widower with six young daughters 
came to South Hadley because someone had told him that Miss 
Lyon was just the wife for him. The matter was whispered 
from one to another, and Mr. Joel Hayes, who was a son of our 
former minister, and who lived in our third parsonage, now 
owned by Mrs. Lester, volunteered to give a tea party in order 
that the two might be introduced to one another. Invitations 
were sent to Captain Peter Allen, Rev. Mr. Condit, Dr. Elihu 



FEOM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 79 

Dwight, Mr. E. T. Smith, Deacon Moses Montague, Mr. Cyrus 
White, and others. These invitations included their wives also, 
and Miss Lyon, who was at that time a guest at Captain Allen's. 
It was thought that this arrangement would enable the widower 
to accompany Miss Lyon home, when he could ask permission to 
"pay his addresses to her." 

One of the company, who was a somewhat clumsy joker, 
told Miss Lyon in a low voice that he never expected to see her 
preside over Mount Holyoke Female Seminary. "And why 
not?" she asked quickly. "Because," he replied, "I think you 
will take a smaller school, with but a single pupil." Miss Lyon 
instantly divined the situation, and not wishing the matter to go 
farther, found a quiet moment in which she could hint to Mrs. 
Abby Wright Allen her desire to return home before the break- 
ing up of the party. 

At this time etiquette demanded that at the tea table hus- 
band and wife should sit next one another. This gave Mrs. Allen 
an opportunity to arrange with the Captain for their early de- 
parture. A little later the three excused themselves and went 
home, leaving the widower to his own reflections. 

When Mary Lyon found that the dream of her life was near- 
ing its fulfillment, a question arose in regard to the location of 
the new seminary. Rev. Eoswell Hawks, who had resigned his 
pastorate in order to aid in the work, was an intimate friend of 
Rev. Artemas Boies, who was at this time our minister. The 
latter wrote to Mr. Hawks : " Do not let Miss Lyon decide upon a 
situation until she has seen South Hadley. This is an ideal place 
for such a school." 

It was in response to this invitation that she first visited 
our town, with the view of finding a suitable place for locating 
the seminary. She finally decided to establish the school here, 
asking only that the townspeople should provide a site and help 
on the building to the utmost of their ability. Eight thousand 
dollars was promptly subscribed in work and money, but when 
the time for payment arrived many gave double the amount 
which they had promised. 



80 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

Mr. Hawks and Miss Lyon solicited contributions for the 
seminary, both for the building itself and its needed furnishings, 
and for this purpose made frequent tours. Their friends in this 
vicinity sometimes loaned them their best horse and chaise, and 
sometimes, alas ! a superannuated horse and decrepit vehicle. 

The word "hospitality" has now lost much of its former 
significance. Then it meant that they would be welcomed every- 
where, and breakfast, dinner, supper and lodging could be had 
for the asking. A, single instance will illustrate their methods. 
' ' One bitter cold night in December, 1835, a gentleman and lady 
drove to the door of Mrs. F.'s early home and asked for a night's 
lodging. She gave them a cordial welcome, but told the gentle- 
man he would have to care for his horse, as her husband had gone 
to meeting. She soon found her guests to be Eev. Roswell 
Hawks and Mary Lyon. They were on a pilgrimage through the 
towns of Western Massachusetts, soliciting funds and other 
donations for the new female seminary to be founded at South 
Hadley. 

"A pleasant evening was passed, Mary Lyon taking out her 
knitting work and wisely plying her needles as she engaged in 
conversation. All were up at an early hour next morning, as 
was the custom of farmers, and the guests were anxious to 
make an early start. As the sleigh was brought out it was found 
to be sadly in need of repairs; the harness, too, needed mend- 
ing, and after considerable delay in patching things, they started 
on their journey, rejoicing over a gift of fifty dollars from their 
host. In front of them in the sleigh was a tub filled with articles 
donated by friends." 

Later, Mr. and Mrs. F. visited the seminary, and as they 
sat down to dinner Mary Lyon quietly remarked that this was 
their bread and milk day — plenty of sweet milk, good bread, 
stewed sweet apples and pie made up the menu for the day's 
dinner. 

In 1835, a difference of opinion arose among Miss Lyon's 
co-workers in regard to the location of the new school. Some 
who lived in the eastern part of the state wished it to be near 



FKOM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 81 

Boston, others were equally insistent that it should be in the 
Connecticut Valley. 

Miss Lyon well knew that the Ipswich Seminary had for 
years occupied the field north of Boston, and this very summer 
"Wheaton Female Seminary was opened about twenty-five miles 
south of that city. She, herself, taught in both institutions, and 
in the latter school is said to have taken a class through Adam's 
arithmetic in three weeks ' time. Under such circumstances she 
adhered firmly to her purpose of locating at South Hadley, and 
the others all yielded to her decision. 

It was now necessary to fix upon a site for the building. 
Her first plan was to place it upon the summit of Prospect Hill, 
which commands a fine view of the surrounding country. A 
beautiful landscape was, in her eyes, a continual education, but 
when she thought of the toil involved in the steep ascent — far 
steeper then than now — it seemed wiser to choose a more acces- 
sible spot, and another site was offered, which embraced the 
present summer residence of J. A. Skinner and gave a pic- 
turesque view of moimtain and valley. This situation would 
have been entirely satisfactory but for its distance from church. 
She expected that her pupils would attend both morning and 
afternoon service, in storm as well as in sunshine, and it seemed 
better to place the building at a less distance from the meeting 
house, as at this time umbrellas were both rare and costly. 

Opposite the Old Burying Ground was a sandy pasture, a 
part of which was covered with huckleberry bushes and the re- 
mainder was used as a boys' playground. Mr. David Choate, 
one of her friendly advisers, standing one day upon the present 
site of the Mary Lyon Chapel, said quietly: "This is the right 
place, I believe. ' ' At his side stood an old pear tree, which had 
probably shadowed the walls of South Hadley 's first dwelling 
house. The owner of this tree had allowed the village boys to 
gather its fruit at their pleasure. Mr. J. once told the author 
that in 1836, when he was a boy, one summer morning he had 
climbed into the old pear tree, when a man named John Preston 
approached with an axe, saying that he had been directed to cut 
down the tree and dig up the stump, as this spot was needed for 



82 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

the new seminary. Hastily filling his pockets with fruit, he re- 
turned home with laggard steps, while across the street the little 
children asked with tearful voice, "Where shall we go huckle 
berrying?" 

The laying of the cornerstone was a memorable affair in 
South Hadley, and great preparations were made for its cele- 
bration. Mr. Todd was engaged to deliver an address in the 
village church, and Mr. Dexter Ingraham, the leader of the choir, 
invited the young people to assist upon this occasion. He 
trained a chorus of nearly one hundred voices which, led by a 
good orchestra, furnished inspiring music. 

After the services at the church were ended, the congrega- 
tion formed in procession and marched, two and two, to the 
northwestern extremity of the Seminary Building. Here the 
cornerstone was laid with appropriate exercises, and upon this 
occasion it is said that Miss Lyon stooped down and wrote. "The 
Lord hath remembered our low estate."* 

*Eecollections of Mary Lyon, by Fidelia Fiske, page 93. 

The following account of Miss Lyon's first years in South 
Hadley is from the pen of Mrs. Cynthia Wright Herrick, and 
was written soon after the fire of 1896: 

"My remembrance of Mary Lyon, and the influence she ex- 
erted upon individuals with whom she came in contact, dates 
back to my fifth year of childhood. Our family had moved to 
South Hadley in order to obtain better facilities for schooling. 
When our home was first established there, her seminary build- 
ing was nearing the third story. Her experiment was discussed 
around our hearth by neighbors and friends nearly every even- 
ing. The pros and cons as often against as for her. An open 
declaration of war with England would hardly have created 
more controversy. Even her well wishers predicted failure ; her 
enemies felt that it would curse the town, and one good South 
Hadley deacon predicted there would not be a girl in the place 
worth marrying, with their higher education. It is well that 
none of them read with a prophetic eye. 

"During this period I had no idea what kind of a creature 
this Mary Lyon was. I fully believed she was some kind of a 



FROM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 83 

monster, but of what species I was ignorant. One day I ven- 
tured to ask one of my big brothers what kind of a lion a Mary 
lion was. He looked at me a moment with a twinkle in his eyes, 
and replied that it was a kind that fed on girls entirely and had 
no use for boys whatever; that there was to be a large, brick 
cage built, and there they would live with the Lyon till she dis- 
posed of them. He then informed me that I might be snapped 
up between times if I ran away, or stayed out late at night. I 
was also told that he had heard father say he should send me 
there when I was older. I assure you, I had my opinion of Mary 
Lj'on after that, and the darkness never found me away from 
home. 

"The first time I saw her she was sitting beside my invalid 
mother, her eyes sparkling, talking volubly of the need of quilts, 
pillows ; anything that pertained to household furnishings. She 
pushed her chair nearer as she talked, and at last my mother 
consented to aid her, after Miss Lyon had taken her hand in 
her own and gently held it. No young lady who has ever felt the 
pressure of that hand will deny the magnetic influence that it 
exerted. I was standing behind the kitchen door looking through 
the crack to see a Mary lion, and she was just a blue-eyed, red- 
cheeked woman. 

"About that time my father came in one morning and 
stated the fact that the seminary had completely disappeared off 
the face of the earth during the night. The three stories col- 
lapsed, and the plan of educating women was supposed to have 
incurred the Di\'ine displeasure. 

"When Miss Lyon saw the ruins of her long-cherished 
hopes, she exclaimed, 'How glad I am that no one is hurt.' It 
was discovered later that the foundation was permeated with 
quicksand, which caused the ruin. 

"Miss Lyon soon rebuilt the seminary, having raised 
twenty-seven thousand dollars, which she collected in sums rang- 
ing from six cents, in three instances, to one thousand dollars 
in but two, and there were eighteen hundred subscribers. 

"The cornerstone of Mt. Holyoke Seminary was laid Octo- 
ber 3, 1836, and the school was opened with four teachers and 



84 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

eighty scholars on November 8, 1837. During the first year the 
number of scholars increased to one hundred and sixteen. At 
the time of Mary Lyon's death, in 1849, there were fourteen 
teachers and two hundred and twenty-nine pupils. 

"Miss Lyon had a correct yet nimble and elastic judgment 
which could adapt itself to any situation. Her aim was singu- 
larly unselfish, and for this high purpose she put aside all merely 
personal matters. Declining marriage, a sacrifice much greater 
for her than for one less affectionate and domestic, she gave her 
life in as pure and lofty a devotion as ever characterized a Saint 
Theresa. 

"I entered the seminary the year Miss Lyon died. She met 
me with a smile, called me her new daughter, and informed 
me that my trunk had been mislaid and I could have the pleasure 
of sharing a room with one of the teachers until my absent trunk 
was fovmd. 

"Miss Lyon had few duties in the school room. She taught 
only Butler's Analogy and Chemistry. 

"The first week of the new scholars was to most of us a 
homesick season, but when Miss Lyon came into the seminary 
hall, with her Bible under her arm, and her face shining as if 
she had been in communion with Deity, she would speak words 
worth cherishing. It was then that she impressed upon us the 
power of littles — little habits, little sins, transient thoughts, 
cherished indulgences, and their importance in the formation of 
character. She always placed the sufferings of Christ and His 
self-denials in such a clear and vivid light that the common trials 
of a school girl's life were not for a moment to be thought of. 
At these times she seemed beautiful to me. 

"One of my fellow students was taken very ill with malig- 
nant erysipelas, which proved fatal. Miss Lyon scarcely left her 
bedside and herself contracted the disease. The young lady's 
coffin was placed in front of the platform in the seminary hall, 
and Miss Lyon, with tears rolling down her cheeks, talked of the 
dear sister. Her last words to us were these, "Young ladies, 
if I could fold my hands and lay down in our dear sister's 
place, with God's voice saying, 'Your work is done, come up 













J. 







FROM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 85 

higher,' I should be so glad to go." She only lived three days 
afterwards. It was predicted that the seminary would prove a 
failure after her death, but she had planted and pruned too 
wisely for the tree to die after all its early care, and now we are 
proud and a little boastful of Holyoke as the finest and most 
progressive school in the world." 

One of Mary Lyon's greatest objects in founding the semi- 
nary was to bring education within reach of the poor. The 
trustees sympathized with this desire, and said that since the 
expense of the building had been defrayed by gifts of money, 
and voluntary labor, no charge should be made for room rent 
and the price of board, including tuition, should be placed at the 
small sum of one dollar and a half a week. 

Under these circumstances no person of less executive abil- 
ity than Miss Lyon could have carried the school through its 
first year to a successful finish. 

As no help was hired, except one man for heavy lifting and 
the carrying of wood, the labor of the household devolved upon 
the j'oung ladies, as Miss Lyon always called them. Each of 
these was assigned her part in what was termed their domestic 
work, which occupied on an average about an hour a day. 

They were formed into circles, according to the different 
duties assigned them. The dinner circle prepared the food for 
the mid-day meal, after which the blue crockery circle washed 
and wiped the willow ware then in use. The work was all 
classified and carried on with unerring precision. If a pupil was 
absent, either by reason of illness or from some other cause, 
her place was promptly filled by a member of the miscellaneous 
circle, who could turn their hands to anything. 

Nor were the pupils dissatisfied with this division of labor. 
They sang blithely at their work, or chatted merrily, and it 
would be hard to find even among the college girls of to-day a 
happier set of faces than those that brightened the old domestic 
hall in the days long gone by. 

Five years after the school opened Miss Lyon wrote to a 
friend, "Everything is systematized, and Miss Moore and Miss 
Whitman urge forward the wheels so beautifully that all seems 



86 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

more than ever like clock-work." In her modesty, Mary Lyon 
did not realize that she was herself the mainspring of it all. 
Her firm will, sometimes half veiled under a playful manner, 
carried everything before it. 

Mr. Hawks once differed from her in regard to some pro- 
posed plan, and being the president of the trustees, said with 
some dignity, "Miss Lyon, please to remember that I am the 
head of this institution." "Well," she returned, quickly, "if 
you are the head I am the neck that turns the head," and she 
had her way. 

The pupils always complied with her wishes, and usually 
with cheerful readiness. Once she gave them an unexpected 
holiday, in order that they might visit Mount Holyoke. She 
had, as she supposed, guarded her plans with care, but hardly 
had her pupils reached the summit when she was told that a mes- 
senger on horseback had been seen riding post-haste through 
the notch to Amherst, and she knew that the college boys would 
soon be flocking toward the mountain. Sending for Mr. Hawks, 
she asked him to procure teams and go at once to Mount Holy- 
oke with a summons for the immediate return of the party. He 
would gladly have been excused from this duty, but did as she 
desired. In spite of their disappointment, all yielded to her re- 
quest. One of them, however, remarked in an audible voice as 
they descended the mountain, "It seems that we escaped from 
the Lyon's den only to fall into a Hawks' nest." 

Few of their outings were better enjoyed than going berry- 
ing. On a pleasant Wednesday, when the swamp huckleberries 
were ripe, some of the good-natured farmers of this vicinity 
drove to the front of the seminary building with their big hay 
wagons and waited while the girls climbed joyfully in. Accom- 
panied by Miss Lyon, or one of the older teachers, they rode 
across the plains with song and laughter, till they reached "the 
slipe." Tin pails and willow backets were then much in request, 
for all knew that the fruit of their afternoon's labor would add 
to the present menu, besides being in part preserved for winter's 
use, when dried huckleberry pies were not to be despised. And 
if, on the way home, each contributed an amusing story. Miss 



FROM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 87 

Lyon's was sure to be the best and wittiest one of all, though at 
its end, like the old edition of Aesop's Fables, there was gener- 
ally a moral ready to be attached. 

During the early years of the seminary, the furniture was 
simple and the food plain. This was a necessity since sixty 
dollars a year from each pupil must defray the cost of provision 
and the salaries of the teachers. 

Tea and coffee never appeared upon the tables except on 
Sunday morning, at which time crust coffee was added to the 
usual menu. This was prepared by toasting dry pieces of bread 
very brown, and then pouring boiling water over them. This, 
though somewhat colorless, made, with the addition of milk and 
sugar, a pleasant beverage. But the girls never seemed to miss 
the luxuries of to-day, and their robust health made an isolated 
sickroom almost needless. 

In case of a slight indisposition, tea and toast would be 
sent at meal times to the room of the pupil, but a small sum was 
charged as the price of this extra privilege. One girl, who had 
inherited an indolent disposition, but had brought with her an 
abundant supply of pocket money, fell into the habit of taking 
her breakfast in bed nearly every morning. This coming to the 
knowledge of Miss Lyon, she herself took the tray to the pupil's 
room one morning, saying that she had missed her from the 
dining hall, and inquiring solicitously in regard to her pupil's 
health. Before leaving she took up the tray and said, "My 
young ladies are all of them so busy that in future I will myself 
bring up your tea and toast whenever you need them." The 
invalid was by this time completely recovered, with no danger 
of a relapse. 

Wliile Mary Lyon allowed her pupils to bring rocking- 
chairs with them if they so desired, she discouraged their use 
as far as possible. She said it made people lazy to sit in them. 
She might well have echoed the plaint of an old man at South 
Hadley Falls, "Nothing's good enough since the Revolutionary 
War," said he, "it's nothing but change, change. Folks used 
to think when they was sick, or old, that they was well off with 



88 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

arms to their cheers. But now it's nothing but teeter up and 
teeter down in these 'ere rocking cheers." 

She often warned her pupils against boastfulness, and the 
assumption of social preeminence, relating to them an incident 
that occurred during the first years of the seminary. One of the 
students came to Miss Lyon with the request that she might at 
her own expense have eggs every day with her breakfast. She 
stated that her father was a rich man and she missed the home 
luxuries, and added that her constitution was too delicate to 
thrive upon warm griddle cakes with butter and molasses, — 
which was then the usual morning meal. After some discussion 
the desired permission was given. A few weeks later, happening 
to be in the town which was the birthplace of the young lady in 
question, and having an hour at her own disposal, she called 
upon the parents and found them living in a small, three-roomed, 
one-story house, with little furniture, and neither carpet nor 
rug, save two or three mats braided from strips of old cloth. 
She learned that the daughter had been out at service two years, 
earning the money to carry her through a year at the seminary, 
and to provide the showy gowns in which she delighted to ap- 
pear. The mother invited her to stay for dinner, saying frankly 
that roasted potatoes and bread was all that she could offer her. 
Miss Lyon declined, as she had brought a lunch from home, and 
her concluding remark in repeating this incident was, "Young 
ladies, you can each draw your own moral." 

One of the most striking features of the new institution was 
the unity of purpose and the sincere friendship that existed be- 
tween the school and the town's people. If Saturday night 
brought a drifting snowstorm, so that by Sunday morning the 
seminary yard would look like a prison enclosure, the pupils 
well knew that volunteers, headed by Byron Smith and John 
Dwight, would appear, each carrying a shovel, and a broad path 
would soon be cleared from their very threshold to the door of 
the church. 

Sometimes in summer, the pupils, while taking the long 
walks, which formed a part of each day's duty, paused to cast a 
longing glance at the trees laden with cherries, peaches or pears, 



FROM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLKGK 80 

that were at this time abundant in South Hadley. If this were 
noticed by the owner, they were sure of a cordial invitation to 
come into the orchard and help themselves to the luscious fruit, 
nor were they ever allowed to return to the seminary empty 
handed. 

If a teacher, wearied by the week's routine, went calling in 
the village on Wednesday afternoon, she was certain of an invi- 
tation to stay to tea, which meant that a most bountiful repast 
was in store for her, and often a little package of caraway 
cookies would be slipped into her hand at parting. It was the 
custom among the leading families of the town to invite all Miss 
Lyon's teachers to a substantial meal at least once in every 
year, and these outings did much to strengthen the friendly 
relations between them. 

The hospitality, however, was not all on one side. On a 
Sabbath morning the pastor would give out notice from the 
pulpit that all members of the congregation who were more than 
fourteen years of age were invited to the seminary on Tuesday 
evening. At the time appointed the guests were received at the 
front door with words of welcome and were ushered into the 
stately and solemn north parlor. After a season of social con- 
verse, the company adjourned to the seminary hall and were 
entertained with music and calisthenics. Refreshments were 
served, sometimes consisting of raised biscuits and butter, 
cherry preserves, loaf-cake and tea. 

At half past nine the minister read a chapter from the Bible, 
one or more hj'mns were sung, and after the closing prayer the 
people of the town went home. 

Sometimes the youngest classes in the Sabbath School were 
invited to spend Wednesday afternoon at the seminary, and the 
pupils entertained them so beautifully that the children, wlien 
they went home, felt as if they had been on a trip to fairy land. 

On the last Sabbath before the graduation exercises, notice 
was given at church of the public examinations on Tuesday and 
Wednesday, at which all the parish from twelve years of age 
upward were invited to be present. Between the recitations 
were interludes filled with music and compositions. The latter 



90 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

were always interesting. Tliere was one on "The Moral Effect 
of Bad Bread," whose author became a famous Boston teacher. 
Another was entitled, "Minus a Garret," and depicted, in a 
witty manner, the trials of a family who moved into a house with 
a roof which gave no attic room for the storing of trunks, etc. 

One of the seniors, three years after the fovmding of the 
seminary, wrote a farewell poem to her classmates, a few lines 
of which will be quoted below: 

I 
Down, down to the tomb of the buried years. 
That are shrined in song, that are veiled in tears, 
Down, down with a soft and a stealthy tread. 
Behold how the hastening months have sped. 
And there cometh a hand on the wall to trace, 
'They are numbered and finished, thy dearest days, 

But far o 'er the earth though your steps may roam, 

* * * * 

Not a lovelier spot shall memory claim. 

And your bosoms shall thrill at Holyoke's name.' 

We are parting now, for a godlike race. 

Let the arm untwine from its last embrace. 

Be our course right on as the eagles fly, 

Right on to a glorious destiny. 

Give the farewell kiss, and the trembling hand, 

For we part but to meet in a holier land. ' ' 

Not only spiritually and intellectually was Mary Lyon 's life 
an inspiration to those about her, but in the home circle her 
tender, sympathetic nature drew all hearts toward her. Once 
she saw a pupil standing lonely and sad beside the window, and 
said to her, "I think you want to see your mother." The girl 
answered, "I have no mother." Upon hearing this Miss Lyon 
put her arms around her and said, tenderly, "I will be a mother 
to you. Come to me any time you would go to her, if she were 
here." 

In describing her we might well misquote Emerson ; one can 
teach simply by doing, and to Mary Lyon it was given to do that 



FROM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 91 

which would have been impossible to any other woman of her 
time. 

"As chief commander, few her peers; none better knew to 
choose her aids. Here lies the secret of a grand and useful life." 

The weeks that followed the death of Mary Lyon were a 
season of deep anxiety to the friends of the institution. None 
of the teachers desired to assume the position of principal. 
Finally, Miss Whitman, who had been associated with Miss 
Lyon for years, consented to take charge of the school for a 
time, but resigned before her marriage, which occurred in 1851. 
The position of acting principal was then given to Miss Mary W. 
Chapin, and the ensuing two years were perhaps the most criti- 
cal period in the history of the seminary. Some of the pupils 
who had never known Miss Lyon desired to abate the former 
strictness of the rules, and believed that the new regime could 
be brought to accept their views. Two of them tried to incite 
an open revolt against certain wise and prudent regulations. 
The ringleaders were, strange to say, daughters of a clergyman 
of considerable note. It was now that the full value of an able 
and discreet counsellor became evident. Eev. Eoswell Hawks, 
and family, resided within the building, and his services had 
been of inestimable worth to Mary Lyon from the first inception 
of her plans. The record states that "Mr. Hawks was enlisted 
in the cause as permanent agent as early as 1834. From town to 
town and from house to house in western Massachusetts he pre- 
sented its claims with such clearness, good sense, and patient 
persistence, as to win people who had never before thought of 
doing anything for female education. Always devoted to the 
interests of the institution, he was president of its board of 
trustees for many years." 

He was a great favorite among the pupils, who always 
spoke of him as "Pa Hawks," and invariably treated him with 
affectionate respect. He now called a meeting of the trustees, 
who promptly and unanimously voted that Miss Chapin should 
have their unqualified support. Several of the pupils were ex- 
pelled, and others suspended, but Mr. Hawks managed matters 
with so much firmness, tact, and gentleness, that the incipient 



92 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

rebellion was crushed, and Miss Chapin continued to preside 
over the seminary for fourteen years, both honored and beloved 
by teachers and students. 

After the foregoing episode it was the custom, in case any 
new pupil showed a continuous spirit of insubordination, to 
suggest to her that she "Stay out a year and mature." Such 
absences rarely failed of their object. 

Early in 1888 application was made to the legislature for a 
change in the name of the institution. As "Mount Holyoke 
Seminary and College" it would share with other such schools 
the power of conferring degrees. On March 12, the day of the 
great blizzard, this request was granted, but it took forty-eight 
hours for the good news to force its way through the snowdrifts 
in order to reach South Hadley. 

The standard of scholarship for the entrance examinations 
was, during the next few years, raised to such an extent that 
on January 31, 1893, the legislature voted to drop the word 
* ' Seminary, ' ' leaving the school a college. 

Concerning this change. Miss Elizabeth Prentiss, a teacher 
from 1866 to 1904, thus writes : 

"A new Mount Holyoke has gradually arisen on the founda- 
tions of the old. Fears that innovations may mar or diminish 
the precious legacy which the present holds in trust, have given 
place to that wise liberalism which, while preserving the best 
of the past, does not fear to take possession of the present and 
develop the larger and fuller life demanded by larger oppor- 
timities and responsibilities." 

The following tribute to Miss Lyon is taken from a poem 
written by the late Mr. Andrew Judd, of South Hadley : 

The mountain halos here are cast. 
The nearer hills play loose and fast, 
Now, clad afresh, the trees appear 
Marking the spring-time of the year ; 
Warmed with its breath the embryo leaves 
Spin the deft web the summer weaves. 



FROM DAME SCHOOL TO COLLEGE 93 

Yon Campus holds a lowly mound, 

Humble the shaft that marks the ground 

Whereon its stands ; whose grassy spears 

Spring at the beck of watering tears i 

From those who felt the charm and grace 

That mirrored her immortal face. 

When hath there been sublimer thought, 

In crucial test, more fitly wrought, 

In unison with heart and brain. 

Uttered in sweeter human strain 

Than wakened by this pioneer, 

This avant-courier, whose career 

Thrilled with its throbbing pulse of steel 

The world's best thought for highest weal? 

She blazed a path untrod before ; 

• « • * 

Out from the Book of books she wove 
Her woof of life, to web of love ; 
How grateful now the thought appears 
That on the circling round of years 
Comes centering to our good old town 
So much that adds to its renown. 



CHAPTER SIX 

THE EVOLUTIOJSr OF A CHUBCH 

PROGRESS in civilization was, in the opinion of our fore- 
fathers, measured by the improvement in church archi- 
tecture. The rough, box-like structures, which the early 
colonists dignified by the name of "meeting-houses," were often 
but little more than log cabins covered within by a coat of 
coarse mortar. 

South Hadley Center has had five successive church build- 
ings, only the first and last of which still remain. One, now 
used as a dwelling, stands just west of Judson Hall, the other 
being the present Congregational Church. 

One hundred and eighty years ago on Sunday mornings, in 
summer, the young people of the South Precinct might have been 
seen threading the woodland path that skirted the base of Mount 
Holyoke, on their way to the mother church in Old Hadley. 
They were barefooted (for in those days shoes were far too 
costly to be worn during the sixteen-mile tramp to and from 
church). When the bridge at Fort River was reached the whole 
procession halted, and, sitting upon the bank, laved their dusty 
feet in the cool water ; then putting on their shoes and stockings 
they proceeded decorously to the quaint, old building on Meeting 
House Hill, prepared to listen to the prolonged discourses of 
the Rev. Isaac Chauncey. 

The settlers of Moody Corner were so thrifty that they wore 
their ordinary working clothes to and from Fort River, exchang- 
ing upon its wooded sides the old suit for the Sunday best, and 
replacing them on their return. 

If one considers the unremitting toil of the early colonists 
when, as the old people used to say, knitting stockings and chop- 
ping wood were their only recreations, it will not seem strange 
that ere long the task of walking to and from church proved 
irksome, and in November, 1727, we find them petitioning the 
General Court, at Boston, that they might be made into a sepa- 



THE EVOLUTION OF A CHURCH 95 

rate precinct, which would entitle them to the privilege of hav- 
ing a meeting house and minister of their own. This the court 
was willing to grant, provided that at the expiration of two years 
they should have forty families and during the following year 
should settle a "learned and orthodox minister." 

The first thing to be done was to agree upon a site for the 
new meeting house. The spot chosen being, as was the custom 
of that day, a slight elevation commanding a partial view of the 
surrounding country, which in case of war might, perhaps, warn 
of Indian approach. Their shrewd avoidance of forest fires was 
shown by placing the building near the center of a sandy field 
covered with low hucklelierry bushes. This field included the 
present common of South Hadley Center. 

The new meeting house was a plain, unpretentious, one- 
roomed structure, forty feet long and thirty feet wide. 

In 1733 they had already made choice of a minister. Grind- 
all Rawson had been a restless, impetuous youth, to whom the 
religious restraints of that age were almost unbearable. The 
Puritan Sabbath was a long day for the boy, and it is said that 
one Sunday afternoon, as a special privilege, he was allowed to 
sit in the orchard for an hour while he committed to memory a 
chapter from the Bible ; at the expiration of that time the Book 
lay upon the ground unopened and the lad was found wholly 
absorbed in a mimic battle between insects, which he had caught 
and forced to fight. 

Before he had entered upon his teens, the wise and tender 
care of his father was withdrawn by the stern hand of Death, 
and he found a temporary home in the house of Judge Sewall, 
and a congenial plajTnate in the person of the judge's grandson, 
Sam Hirst. 

The laws of the commonwealth had long ago decreed that 
whenever a minister was settled a house shoiald be provided for 
him, and the young and already overburdened community were 
now asked to build a parsonage. The erection of a meeting 
house had already taxed their energies to the utmost. Trees 
eighty feet high had been felled in order to "hugh" out the 
massive beams which are still a wonder to those who see them. 



96 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

Such buildings were usually framed upon the ground and 
the raising of their heavy timbers was by no means an easy 
task. It sometimes required the services of sixty picked men 
for a week or more before the framework would stand in its 
proper position. This work was voluntary and unpaid for, and 
those men who lived at a distance of four or five miles found it 
difficult to be present at the early hour set for commencing labor. 
Their horses could not pace rapidly the narrow, winding cart 
tracks, and pacing was at that time considered the natural gait 
of a horse ; trotting not coming into favor till several decades 
later. 

The location of the minister's dwelling had already been 
provided for in the land grant of 1720. It was to stand upon the 
west side of the present Woodbridge street, and the old parson- 
age still exists as the rear ell of the house now occupied by the 
Misses Eastman. Its hand-made nails with their rough, irregu- 
lar tops, and its carefully-prepared clapboards testify to the skill 
and patient industry that were required for its construction. 

On March 30, 1733, a committee had been appointed "to 
order and proportion each man's labor, as near as may be con- 
venient, about Mr. Eawson's house." This date is of interest 
as being that of the first town meeting of which South Hadley 
has preserved a record. 

The living room of the new parsonage was of ample pro- 
portions. Extending half-way across the western end was a 
wide fireplace and an old-fashioned brick oven for the Satur- 
day baking. In the northwest corner of the room was a deep 
well with its old, oaken bucket. 

As the summer waned, the people became impatient of their 
long walk to the Hadley church, and in spite of the unfinished 
state of their meeting house, it was voted that the ordination 
of Rev. Grindall Rawson should take place on October 3, 1733. 

The preparatory fast day, which always preceded the set- 
tlement of a new minister, was observed, and a committee was 
then appointed to take charge of the dinner and to send for the 
neighboring "Ministers and Messengers." 

In the main, an ordination dinner was in those times a joy- 



THE EVOLUTION OF A CHURCH 97 

ous and, in many cases, even a hilarious occasion. After the 
solemn consecration of the candidate, by the laying on of hands 
and the other attendant religious ceremonies, had been duly 
performed, then clergy, as well as laity, gave themselves up to 
the enjoyment of social festivities. To "provide suitably " meant 
at that time to have the punch well brewed, the flip iron heated 
and the toddy stick prepared for frequent use. 

There may or may not have been spiced wine at this South 
Hadley feast, but of a certainty there was an abundance of both 
cider and rum. No one but a deacon or a man of equal piety 
and probity was permitted to sell spirituous liquors, and his 
duty allowed him to deal it out simply to "cheer and not in- 
ebriate." Another qualification was also demanded of the 
vendor, as is e\adenced by the licenses issued by our town offi- 
cials. He must be, they state, not only a man of sound judgment, 
who could tell at a glance how much spirit a customer could 
bear, but he must also be a connoisseur whose cultured taste 
could select the delicate jorum "fit to be offered to ministers." 

Doubtless the tables groaned beneath the weight of edibles 
that filled the pewter platters on that memorable third of Octo- 
ber. There would be, first of all, according to the custom, a rich 
plum pudding; for dessert preceded the course of meats a cen- 
tury and a half ago. Then one looks for wild turkey, from the 
side of Mt. Holyoke, baked in a big Dutch oven before the fire- 
place and redolent of sage and other savory herbs. It was prob- 
ably flanked by roasts of beef and pork, a leg of lamb and a 
venison pasty. 

There were no potatoes to grace the festal board, turnips 
being used as a substitute, but it may be that they were enabled 
to offer their favorite apple and gooseberry tarts, for history 
tells us that the first settlers in Connecticut had with wise fore- 
thought brought apple seeds with them from England. Our 
ancestors had profited by their example, and they, in turn, had 
taken apple seeds from Connecticut, and already there was one 
flourishing orchard in South Hadley. 

Some of our old inhabitants possessed spinits, a kind of 
circular gridiron with a rotary motion. Upon this useful uten- 



98 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

sil delicious salmon, fresh from the river, were wont to be 
broiled over the bed of coals. 

Of the after-dinner speeches no record remains, but doubt- 
less amusing stories were rehearsed; stories that have ever 
since gone echoing down the halls of time. 

But soon the chill winds of November, the early snows of 
December and the tempestuous storms of January must have 
made a rather dreary outlook for the new preacher. The town 
had voted the preceding March to ceil and plaster the meeting 
house and to provide joists for the gallery, but this had not been 
done. The pulpit was simply a plain, wooden desk, behind which 
the preacher stood on these wintry days muffled in his great 
coat and with his hands incased in gloves or mittens to keep 
them from freezing. 

There was no artificial heat in the meeting house, the iron 
boxes, known by the name of stoves, being then unheard and un- 
thought of. The little footstoves made of perforated tin, in- 
closing an iron pan which contained a handful of coals buried 
in ashes, were just coming into use in the larger towns, but 
were probably unknown in South Hadley. 

Sometimes the roar of the wind rushing through the gap 
between Mt. Tom and Mt. Holyoke must have almost drowned 
the voice of the speaker, whose welcome "tenthly" gave notice 
that the sermon was nearing its close. 

In 1734 came the crucial test of the church harmony — the 
seating of the meeting house. The committee were directed to 
seat the congregation according to ratable estate, having due 
regard to age and ability. To adjust matters on this delicate 
scale often sowed seeds of dissension and bitterness that bore 
fruit for years afterward, but the present committee appear to 
have used rare tact, good judgment and care, for there was no 
public dissatisfaction recorded, as was the case upon similar 
occasions later on. 

The first few years of the Rawson ministry were quiet and 
uneventful, but in 1737 trouble arose in the church. It may be 
that some family eccentricities now became apparent. It was 
said of his cousin, the other Rev. Grindall Rawson, that hear- 



TPIE EVOU^TION OF A CHURCH 99 

ing he had been made a subject of ridicule by certain members 
of his congregation he preached fi'om the text "I Was the 
Song of the Drunkard," and the sermon was such a stinging 
one that at its close hardly a person was left in the house. 

The first complaint against Mr. Rawson, brought by the 
South Hadley church, would seem a very trivial pretext upon 
which to hold a council of ministers. He was accused of having 
traded horses with someone outside the town. Perhaps his 
native shrewdness enabled him to get the best of the bargain 
and complaint was made of conduct "unbecoming a minister." 

At all events, a council, of which Rev. Johnathan Edwards, 
of Northampton, was a member, was called. After hearing the 
evidence on both sides, the coimcil voted that Grindall Rawson 
was "Learned, orthodox and moral," and as these were the 
three essentials required by law the incident was considered 
closed. It proved, however, to be the entering wedge whereby 
later dissensions crept into the church. 

It should, perhaps, be added by way of explanation that 
although at that period the towns in this region yielded an out- 
ward show of reverence to their ministers, yet they often inter- 
fered in personal matters to a degree that would be deemed 
intolerable at the present day. 

Thus, in the unpublished diary of a minister, who was set- 
tled in an adjoining town and who had some financial trouble 
with a parishioner to whom he had loaned money, we read such 
entries as the following: 

May 28, went to Walter Fairfield's and bought his cattle. 
Gave him up a note that I had against him and I am to give 
him more, if Johnathan Bardwell and John Cowls say that I 
must." 

This the two men did say a few days later. Afterward 
meeting one of his congregation, who had absented himself from 
church in order to go hunting, the pastor said to him, severely, 
"Phelps, you have not been at meeting for three Sabbaths. If 
you continue in your present course remember that very soon 
you will be in hell and there will be no preaching there." 



100 IN" OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

"B-b-but, p-p-p-parson, " stuttered his parishioner, "it w-won't 
be for the 1-lack of m-m-ministers." 

It may be that this trouble with the church deepened Mr. 
Rawson's desire for sympathy and companionship, for in the 
succeeding May we find preparations for a wedding going on in 
the house of the Hadley minister. Rev. Isaac Chauncey, whose 
daughter, Dorothy, was the promised bride of our pastor. He 
had meekly followed the tradition of the fathers, for there was 
in this section a general expectation that the younger divines 
would marry the daughters of other ministers. There was so 
much clannishness among the members of this profession in the 
early days that it even led them to propose that none but minis- 
ters should be eligible as deputies to the General Court, but this 
law failed of enactment. 

There being no divinity schools at that time, students were 
obliged to study theology in the homes of older ministers, where 
they learned to be orthodox, and perhaps fell in love with one 
of the pretty daughters of the household. If there were none, 
the elder man usually gave to the younger at the close of his 
novitiate a letter of introduction to some other minister who 
had marriageable daughters, and under the transparent pre- 
text of reviewing his theology the wooing was accomplished. 

Some of the elderly people of South Hadley still recall an 
amusing instance of this kind which happened to a reverend 
ancestor of their family. 

The pastor and his wife had been invited out to supper, and 
when a young minister appeared with his letter of introduction 
the three daughters with their little brother were obliged to do 
the honors of the house. The youthful minister had a very prom- 
inent nose and at the table the youngest daughter, intending to 
ask him to pass the cheese, said, unconsciously, "Will you please 
pass me your nose?" then, noticing her mistake, she blushed 
and said hastily, "I mean the cheese." He gravely handed the 
dish with no remark and nothing in his face betrayed his having 
heard the first question. On the morning of his departure two 
weeks later, her mother having sent her into the garden on an 
errand, the young man presently followed her and said, in an 



THE EVOLUTION OF A CHUECH 101 

earnest voice, "On the day of my arrival you asked me to pass 
you my nose ; will you permit me to offer with it my hand and my 
heart?" And the wedding occurred shortly after. 

A minister 's wedding in Hampshire county was at this time 
considered an affair of importance. The first thing to be done 
was to hold a town meeting in order to vote money for defraying 
the expenses of the entertainment. 

If the laws of etiquette which the county demanded upon 
such occasions were obeyed, then a delegation of his parishioners 
would accompany Mr. Rawson to flockanum, where a party from 
Hadley would meet them and all proceed together to the home 
of the bride. The marriage ceremony was usually performed 
"in the edge of the evening." On the following morning the 
party from South Hadley, increased by a score or more of the 
friends of the bride, would return home. The fair Mistress Dor- 
othy riding, according to custom, on a pillion behind one of the 
deacons, perhaps in this case Ebenezer Moody, as he was one 
of the bridegroom's most intimate friends. At Hockanum they 
were probably met by a large company from our town who es- 
corted them back to the house of Mr. Eawson, where fun and 
feasting reigned until late in the evening. On the following day 
the festivities were usually renewed so that those of the con- 
gregation who could only leave home in turn might also share in 
the joyous occasion. 

Hardly had the wedding bells ceased their melody when a 
new difficulty arose in the church. Eighty years had elapsed 
since the first settlers of Hadley emigrated from Connecticut 
in order to escape the Half-way Covenant, and now the ab- 
horred doctrine had followed and overtaken them in their new 
home. Championed by Rev. Solomon Stoddard, of North- 
ampton, it had already become a prevailing article of belief in 
Western Massachusetts, and a majority of the South Hadley 
church members were ready to accept it as a tenet of their faith. 

Then, too, the old superstition that the souls of infants 
dying unbaptized would be lost wakened into new life during 
this century, and our ministers baptized the children of their 
parishioners upon the very day of their birth or within a few 



103 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

days after that event. Many non-church members desired this 
sacrament for their children, deeming it consistent with the 
teachings of Scripture. 

But not so the Eev. Grindall Rawson. His determined will, 
firm even to stubborness, opposed itself to this innovation and 
a strong minority of the church upheld him. This party in- 
cluded many of his kindred and intimate friends. Among them 
was Chileab Smith, Third, the great-grandfather of Mary Lyon, 
a man of dominant will and unflinching purpose, as beseemed her 
ancestor. Her intense loyalty to whatever she believed to be 
right, her unswerving honesty and truthfulness, and her high 
courage that could not brook defeat, all seemed a heritage from 
her brave old forefather. 

Aside from the personal interest of the narrative, the story 
of his life is well worth the telling simply for the light it sheds 
upon the customs and manners of the day. His journal tells 
us that at the age of seventeen he was "Pricked to the heart, 
indeed, by the words of a dying young man. ' ' The words were 
these: "Forever, forever, what not one drop of water! forever, 
forever." These words being often repeated by him alarmed 
me to the purpose. Before this I used to be frequently with 
vain company but now I forsook them." This finally resulted 
in his conversion and later on he united with the South Hadley 
church. 

Meanwhile three brothers named Clark, two of whom were 
Baptists, had settled in the eastern part of South Hadley. James 
Smith, brother of Chileab, who lived near them, was soon con- 
verted to their faith and Chileab also adopted the same Baptist 
belief. 

This doughty warrior was generally victorious, as witness 
the following entry in his journal. 

"Simeon Harvey, of Deerfield, slandered me and at last got 
to that pass that he threatened to take club-law, and then 
bragged that I was afraid to come to Deerfield, 'For,' says he> 
there are men here that will riddle him till they can see through 
him as through a riddle.' " (A riddle was a kind of coarse 
sieve in use at that day.) 



THE EVOLUTION OF A CHURCH 103 

But Simeon Harvey thus retracted his unkind speeches : 

"January 28, 1772. I, Samuel Harvey, rashly and in a pas- 
sion from time to time charged the said Smith unjustly, for 
which I am heartily sorry and ask his forgiveness, and all other 
peoples who heard me. Witness my hand — Simeon Harvey. I 
also promise to set up this paper on the door of my house to 
stand one month. 

"Jonathan Wells In behalf of 

' ' Samuel Montague the church. ' ' 

In 1732 Chileab had married Sarah, the daughter of Deacon 
Ebenezer Moody, and as a part of her dowry received a certain 
tract of land situated in South Hadley, about a mile north of 
the church. It included a small elevation which has since always 
been known as Chileab 's Hill, and was once a favorite Mecca of 
the student girls in the earlier days of Mt. Holyoke Seminary. 
Here he built himself a house which still remains as part of the 
dwelling of H. C. Talbot. 

After the departure of Rev. Grindall Rawson, Chileab 
Smith, Third, went before the association and testified that "the 
South Hadley church was dead in trespasses and sin, and 
though they would not refuse to receive a converted person, yet 
never the sooner for his being converted, so that if a person is 
never no better than is required to be a member of their church 
he must perish eternally." 

Alienated from the South Hadley church by their treatment 
of Mr, Rawson and himself, he afterward removed to Ashfield, 
where only two settlers had preceded him. There he built a 
house and planted an orchard. 

As the colony increased in numbers, he began to hold divine 
service at his own house on the Sabbath. After the breaking 
out of the French and Indian War, finding that white men had 
been massacred or taken prisoners but a few miles away, the 
whole settlement migrated to the other towns. Three years later 
they returned to their own homes, and a stockade was erected 
which enclosed Chileab Smith's house, and was built mostly at 
his own expense. It was composed of logs fifteen feet long, of 
sufficient size to be bullet proof. These were placed side by side. 



104 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

having three feet sunken in the ground and twelve feet above the 
surface. This fort was nearly one-hundred and fifty feet square 
and had but one door of entrance, which was barricaded every 
night. Upon the roof of the house was a watch tower capable 
of containing six armed men. To this fort at night came all the 
inhabitants of the village that they might sleep in safety. 

When the Ashfield church learned of Chileab's Baptist pro- 
clivities they dropped his name from their list of members. 
Afterwards he refused to pay "rates" toward the support of the 
minister. Church and town were at that time so closely con- 
nected that in consequence of this non-payment of rates the 
authorities sold at auction for thirty-five shillings his dwelling 
house, orchard, family burying ground, and twenty acres of 
land; and others of a like persuasion met with a similar fate. 

Now, Chileab was not a man to be daunted even though his 
neighbors, apparently forgetting the generous shelter and pro- 
tection that he had formerly afforded them, came in a body to 
mob him. They dug up his young apple trees and carried them 
away, but this was too much for the proud spirit of Deacon 
Moody's daughter, and tradition says that Mrs. Chileab went 
out with a shovel in her hand which she used with such good effect 
that presently the mob dispersed, bearing, however, in triumph 
the young fruit trees, which were transplanted with such care 
that to this day the chance visitor in that vicinity may still have 
pointed out to him the famous "Baptist Apple Trees." 

But this was not to be the end of the matter. Chileab Smith 
determined to recover his property. Back and forth, to and 
from Boston he went, through forests whose only aisle was a 
narrow bridle path, and wearisome journeys they were. All the 
Baptists in the state took up the matter and the uncertain Gene- 
ral Court knew not what to do. Finally, at the suggestion of 
Governor Hutchinson, the matter was referred to Royalty. 

King George, the Third, in council, decreed that the land 
should be restored to its original owners, and Chileab, with 
those of his thirteen children who then survived, were reinstated 
in their rights. 

He was married several times, his last wedding occurring 



THE EVOLUTION OF A CHURCH 105 

when he was more than ninety years of age. Mary Lyon, we are 
told, was present upon this occasion, as was also his son and 
namesake, Chileab, who was destined to become a centenarian, 
living until the success of Mount Holyoke Seminary was an ac- 
complished fact. 

Returning to the history of the Rev. Mr. Rawson, we find 
him up to 1740 treated with an outward show of respect. Each 
year his salarj' was voted and a day set on which to carry him 
wood. The seaters had been directed to make room for Madam 
Rawson in the meeting house, and when she and her husband 
entered the whole congregation rose and stood in silence until 
the two were seated. 

The precinct had been very liberal with him in the matter 
of settlement. Besides the Home Lot, he had been given wood- 
land, meadow and pasture, while the General Court had granted 
him a tract of land in the eastern part of Granby; the whole 
aggregating over three hundred and seventy acres. The large 
maple tree, still standing in front of the old parsonage, a little 
to the southeast, and the twin maple which formerly stood a 
little north of it, probably dated back to the time of our first 
minister, and indicated his love of nature. 

In 1740, the Half Way Covenant had so leavened the 
churches of Hampshire County (wliich at this time included also 
those of Hampden and Franklin) that the records state that 
not a single church, and only one minister, upheld Jonathan 
Edwards in his protest against this very liberal theologj'. Yet 
the clearer vision of to-day approves the simple creed for which 
Mr. Rawson fought. Let us, therefore, bear in mind that he was 
in the right to such a degree that Protestantism has returned to 
his views, deeming them both Scriptural and proper. 

On February 25, 1740, at a meeting held in South Hadley, 
it was voted that "It is the desire of this precinct that the Rev. 
Mr. Rawson be dismissed from and lay down the work of the 
ministry among us." Mr. Rawson took no notice of this request. 
On January 12, of the succeeding year, they voted that they 
would give him neither wood nor salary. Mr. Rawson insisted 



106 m OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

that until the town should settle its past indebtedness to him he 
was still legally their pastor and should continue to preach. 

A committee had been appointed to keep the keys of the 
meeting house, it was not to be opened or shut except "Accord- 
ing to their prudence." A minister not far away had been 
locked out by his parishioners, for the manners of that day were 
rude. Upon this the parson shouldered his axe and broke down 
the door, then mounting the pulpit in triumph he preached a 
vigorous sermon. Perhaps the committee people suspected that 
the present incumbent might be tempted to do the same thing, 
as indeed he was quite likely to. 

Finally, on October 30, 1741, their last shred of patience 
gave way. A committee of fifteen were ordered, in more explicit 
language, in case he again attempted to preach, ^'To put him 
forth from the meeting house." To this threat, which had been 
so often repeated, he paid no attention. 

The committee met, thirteen of them agreeing that now they 
would obey instructions, only two dissenting. Some of the elders 
proposed to delegate their sons to perform the task that had 
been assigned them. 

One Sabbath morning later on, Mr. Rawson appeared in 
church. When he had ascended the pulpit stairs, one of the 
deacons rose and solemnly warned him against attempting to 
officiate. Mr. Eawson's reply was simply to begin reading one 
of the Imprecatory Psalms, or, as another version of the story 
has it, commencing a long prayer. A number of men now 
advanced, and, taking him from the pulpit, either carried or 
dragged him from the church. Tradition tells us that he con- 
tinued the prayer or psalm until a handkerchief was placed 
across his mouth. 

This was Mr. Eawson's last attempt to enter the pulpit. 
It was expected that he would cause the arrest of the yovmg men 
who had forcibly removed him from the meeting house, and ten 
pounds were raised to be used in their defense. He refrained 
from taking the matter into court, but, none the less, refused to 
resign his pastorate. 

The precinct had pre\nously voted that they would pay him 



THE EVOLUTION OF A CHURCH 107 

up to November 20, 1740, "but not after that." As he would not 
accept this overture, they extended the time until May of 1741, 
when the council had advised a separation. Finding him still 
obdurate, some peace-loving members of the community gave 
him their personal bonds for the jiayment of one hundred pounds 
if he would resign his pastoral office, which he did, and in 1742 
the precinct repaid them. 

Many of Mr. Eawson's friends had become so much embit- 
tered against the church that they removed to other towns. The 
discarded minister did not find it easy to secure another settle- 
ment. When pastors were engaged for life there were but few 
empty pulpits ; he must wait until a new church was formed and 
a new building erected in some thinly populated district. 

Three years passed and still he remained here. Then the 
people of Hadlyme, Conn., hired him to preach there for three 
months. At the expiration of the time they engaged him for 
three months more on probation. In May, 1745, they invited him 
to become their minister, taking the Cambridge Platform as the 
basis of belief. 

There had been dissension among the people of Hadlyme 
in regard to the new church, but now they all united upon Mr. 
Eawson, and imder his guidance they enjoyed a long season of 
"satisfaction and rest." At his death, in 1777, the faithful con- 
gregation erected a tombstone at their own expense. 

After the resignation of their minister, the South Precinct 
were not long in finding a successor. About two hundred years 
before this. Rev. John Woodbridge, a clergyman of Wiltshire, 
England, had named a son after himself and educated him for 
the ministry. This practice had been continued from generation 
to generation, until now South Hadley's second minister was the 
ninth Rev. John Woodbridge in unbroken succession. His ances- 
tral pride may have been gratified by the fact that his father was 
a grandson of Thomas, the Earl of Dudley, while his mother was 
a granddaughter of John Eliot, the "Apostle to the Indians." 
He, himself, had married the daughter of a well-known minister, 
and of his social supremacy there can be no doubt. Unlike his 



108 IM OLD SOUTU HADLEY 

predecessor, he was dignified in bearing, prudent in council, and 
full of gentleness and sjTnpathy toward all who were in sorrow. 

During the greater part of his pastorate, Mr. Eawson had 
refused, or at least neglected, to attend the meetings of the Min- 
isters ' Association, but Mr. Woodbridge soon became one of its 
most valued members. He was considered to be a man of such 
sound judgment that people came from far and near to consult 
him. A young divine, living nearly a dozen miles from here, 
was falsely accused of having stolen a silver watch, and was 
summoned to appear at the next session of the court in order to 
answer to the charge. Several witnesses, or, as they were then 

called, evidences, said they would testify that Mr. F had 

entered the watchmaker 's shop on the afternoon of the day when 
the watch was first missed. In his trouble and perplexity he 
came to Eev. Mr. Woodbridge for coimsel. "Go home and take 
up your work," said the latter, "and pay no attention to the 
matter. Wlien the day of the trial comes God can plead your 
cause." This suggestion was followed, and the real culprit, "a 
coffee-colored negro," lulled into a feeling of security, incau- 
tiously revealed the fact that he, himself, was in the shop on 
the evening of the day in question. When the case was called in 
court, the defendant was promptly acquitted and the negro 
arrested. Taken by surprise, the latter confessed his guilt and 
made restitution. The young preacher entered in his journal 
(for in those days it was the fashion for ministers to keep a 
diary), "I bless God that I followed Mr. Woodbridge 's advice." 

April 21, 1742, was fixed upon as the date of the new minis- 
ter's ordination. In the joj' attendant upon his settlement, it 
was determined to make the dinner "An occasion." The pre- 
cinct had raised ten pounds to be used in defense of the young 
men who took Mr. Eawson from the pulpit. This money, they 
now voted, should be used for the dinner; "as far as it will go" 
was considerately added." , 

For more than twenty years almonds and raisins, China 
oranges, and spiced wine had adorned the tables of Boston's 
elite, and who can say but that some ambitious member of the 
committee may have ordered them now; for the Smiths as a 



THE EVOLUTION OF A CHURCH 109 

class were wealthy, and singularly enough the five men ap- 
pointed to "pursue and accomplish what has been agreed on" 
in the matter of Mr. Woodbridge 's settlement each answered to 
that surname. They were Deacon John Smith, Corporal John 
Smith, Jonathan Smith, Lieutenant Chileab Smith (not the an- 
cestor of Mary Lyon), and William Smith. 

For the past two months the people had been working busily 
on the new parsonage. They had learned wisdom since locat- 
ing their first one. It could not have been a pleasant experi- 
ence for Rev. Grindall Rawson to walk a quarter of a mile 
through pelting rains and drifting snows, in a town where 
umbrellas had never been heard of, and then to stand for two 
hours in a cold, damp church, his wet garments clinging about 
him. If, however, owing to the severity of the storm and the 
intensity of the cold, only seven worshipers were present, then 
the minister had permission to take his small audience home 
with him, and in the big living room preach the sermon he had 
previously prepared. 

In consideration of these facts, they now placed their par- 
sonage within a few rods of the meeting house, upon the east 
side of the street. The main part of the house, with its four 
large rooms and pulpit window, was probably not finished until 
several years later. In front of the old Dunlap house (our 
second parsonage) was placed a row of young poplars, this 
being, at that time, considered as the distinctive mark of a min- 
ister's residence. 

A day of fasting and prayer preceded the ordination of 
Mr. Woodbridge (the term "installation" not having yet come 
into vogue), and his settlement was followed by a special serv- 
ice, when the congregation met to thank God for having given 
them so good a minister. 

The precinct had agreed to give Mr. Woodbridge fifty 
loads of wood, and a date was set for it's delivery. Wood Day 
was indeed a great day in South Hadley. Busy hands were 
at work in the parsonage long before sun-up ; there were eggs to 
be beaten and flour sifted, l)utter and milk to be placed ready 
at hand, and apples to be pared. 



110 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

Then, too, the big oven beside the chimney must be pre- 
pared for use. This had been built with three courses of bricks 
lying side by side, this thickness of the wall being necessary in 
order to absorb and retain sufficient heat for the baking. There 
was an opening into the chimney for the escape of smoke, which 
was called the up-take or draft, and could be closed by means 
of a piece of wrought iron attached to a long rod. The oven 
was nearly filled with long, slender sticks of dry wood which 
had been cut for this purpose, and a fire was kindled beneath 
them. When this had become a bed of coals, both the up-take 
and iron door of the oven were closed in order that the bricks 
might become thoroughly heated. A little later the coals and 
ashes were removed; then Madam Woodbridge advanced with 
arm bared to the elbow, and putting her hand into the oven as 
far as she could reach, counted up to thirty. If the heat were 
too great for her to bear, then the oven must be cooled before 
using. Later on another method came into use here. Flour 
was sprinkled upon the floor of the oven, and the expert house- 
wife could judge of the heat by the quickness with which it 
browned. 

A flat shovel with a long handle, called a slice, was now 
well floured, and from this loaves of wheat and of rye bread 
were deftly slipped to the farther end of the oven. At this era 
there were no bread pans, and when these useful articles did ap- 
pear, about 1800, they were simply roimd, flat disks of tin, with- 
out sides. 

It was customary in such families as the Woodbridge 's to 
scatter oak leaves upon the floor of the oven, and while the 
mother was busy it was considered a nice plan to get the chil- 
dren out of the way by sending them leafing, as it was called. 

Next after the bread came pandowdies, Indian puddings 
and loaf cake, followed by apple, mince and pumpkin pies, the 
remaining space being filled with ginger snaps and cookies. 
While they baked in quiet seclusion, the kettle of hissing fat 
that hung from the crane tossed and turned the golden brown 
nutcakes. Kindly neighbors, too, were bringing in provisions. 



TIIK KVOl.HTION OK A (111 l.'CII 111 

wliilc iiiciuitiiiic llic sliir(l\' rnnncrs outside wcic cutting llio 
wood 1111(1 piling it up nciitly, rcndy I'or use. 

'I'lu' (HiJilily of tlu' wood givi'u to ii iiiiiiislcr was said to Ito 
a sure tost, of liis poi)ularity. 'Plial hrouglit by liis friends was 
certiiin to bo straight and sound, wiiile those h'ss kindly dis- 
posed toward liim would sometimes bring sticks that wcro 
crookod and full of knots. 

After the wood bad all been jiiled, the men adjourned to 
the bous(>, and the rooms echoed with the clamor of merry 
tongues and loud voiced laughter. When tlu- feast was spread, 
the beof, pork and mutton roasted on the s|iil, being Hanked by 
dishes of eider-apple sauce and Dutch cheese, with, alas! Hip, 
toddy and eggnogg e\-er\wliere; w liat then were llie covelcd 
liuskiug bees and apple parings of the young people in com- 
parison with the .joys of Wood Day"/ 

There Avas aiu)ther annual appointment somewhat less 
jovial than this; it was liate Day. It bad been agreed that a 
certain i)art of Mr. Woodbridgc's salary — sometimes a third, 
sometimes a (|inirter— should be i)aid in wheat, Indian corn, rye 
and lla.x. There were no corn barns at that tinu', and the peo- 
ple were e.xpectcd to carry their grain up to the low raftered 
chamber over the kitchen, or into the generous sized garret, 
above the nuiin bouse. It was now tliat a man's real character 
was made manifest. The generous brouglil laige measure, and 
of their best; tlie stingy and axaricions used their poorer (|ual- 
ity for this i)urpose and gave scanty weight. Sometimes, how- 
ever, they were detected. A minister of (lu- county records in 
bis diary: "F declined taking some corn that Cnpi. C sent here 
tbis day. I think I acted upon a principle of justice. I desire 
tbat the Cajitain may be kept calm an<l composed." 

Tn 174i?, this being the usual time for again seating the 
meeting house, a eonnnittce was apjiointed to take cbai'ge of the 
matter. 

Tbe size of the congregalion had increased as new settlers 
joined the comnnmity, and additional seats had been made in 
tbe gallery, some of these being built from the publi<' funds, oth- 
ers at the CNpense of private indixiduals. At- tlie meeting on 



112 TN" OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

March 14 it was generously voted that "those persons which 
have built pews in the gallery have liberty to sit in them during 
the pleasure of the precinct." 

Since the men who had been chosen to seat the meeting 
house could not have the arrogance to assign themselves the 
highest places, and did not wish to sit for three years in the 
lowest ones, a second committee was appointed whose duty it 
was to seat the seaters. 

William Montague, who lived in what is now Granby Cen- 
ter, was pretty sure to be on one or the other of the two boards, 
and he was given a place in the highest rank on the men's side. 
His wife sat with Madam Woodbridge, in the Great Pew, next 
the pulpit. The Widow Kellogg, who six years later became his 
second wife, had her choice between the foreseat and the third. 
She was the daughter of Deacon John Smith, whose father had 
died after a lingering illness which was supposed to have been 
brought upon him by the potent spell of a malevolent witch. She 
was treated with distinction, for during her eight years of 
widowhood she was supposed to look after the sick in a general 
way. Trained nurses were not to be had, and a serious case of 
illness was a neighborhood affair. The younger women were 
expected to go as "watchers" at night, while the older ones 
carried in food for the family and sat by the bedside of the 
patient by day. If the sickness proved fatal, two persons were 
detailed "to sit up all night with the corpse," and this cus- 
tom was kept up in South Hadley imtil the middle of the last 
century. 

In the pew by the east door sat Deacon John Smith and his 
wife, also their next neighbors on Cold Hill, Mr. and Mrs. Luke 
Montague. 

The Northampton Church, five years before, had positively 
forbidden any intermingling of the sexes in seating the meet- 
ing house, and Deacon Smith 2d and Luke Montague were now 
the only men who ventured to sit with their families on the 
woman's side of the house. But public opinion followed their 
lead, and twenty years later the separation of the sexes in our 
church was abandoned. 



THE EVOLUTION OF A CHURCH 113 

In 1743 there devolved upon another John Smith the most 
difficult and perplexing duty that fell to the lot of the deacon's 
office. It is thus stated in the town records: "Voted that 
Deacon John Smith 1st acquaint people where to sit in the 
meeting house." This affair of "seating the meeting house" in 
most towns gave rise to much bitter wrangling and many neigh- 
borhood quarrels. 

It was performed by a committee whose instructions in 
South Hadley at this time were: "To have regard to age, estate 
and qualifications." That the old people should sit near the 
pulpit in order to hear well, all were agreed, but when it came 
by placing the men of wealth in the high seats and the poorer 
brethren away back by the door — that was quite another mat- 
ter. Then, too, in regard to "Qualifications," who should say 
whether or not the Hillyers, with their great strength and skill 
in boating, were superior to Nat Groodale, who lured the wild 
turkeys from Mt. Holyoke down to the very home lots of the 
settlers with his wonderful bird calls ? Then, too, military titles 
entailed fresh complications, for the families of the officers were 
even more tenacious of their rank than were the officers them- 
selves. 

They used to tell of one old woman who was continually 
repeating that her son had been in the army. "He was either a 
genny-rill or a corpo-rill, I can never remember which, but it 
was some kind of a 'rill,' " she reiterated. 

There was some kind of a rill in a good many families. 
Thus: In seating the John Smiths, of whom we had five, Ser- 
geant John's wife must have a higher place than the wife of 
Corporal John, and plain John Smith must go still lower. 
Deacon John Smith 1st sat, of course, in front of the pulpit. 

Once in every three years a new allotment of seats was 
made, and it was his duty for three successive Sabbaths to read 
the list aloud at the close of the morning service. If on the 
fourth Sabliath the congregation did not take the seats that had 
been assigned them it was his duty to reprove them. 

In case any malcontent still refused to sit in his appointed 
place, the custom of other towns was to have the erring brother 



114 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

fined by the court; but our shrewd and kindly deacons simply 
ordered the tithing men (of whom we had three) to conduct 
the offender to the Pouting Pew, and if, during the ensuing week 
the children in the streets called after him, "There goes Pout- 
ing Thomas," or John, or Richard, or Samuel, as the case 
might be, there were none to say them nay. 

Our number of deacons in active service was limited to two, 
as the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper was administered in a 
different way from our present system. The communicants 
ranged themselves in a procession, and going up one aisle 
passed in front of the deacons' pew. One of the latter handed 
them the bread, the other the wine. They then returned to 
their seats by another aisle, leaving, at least once a year, a con- 
tribution of twelve and one-half cents each upon the deacon's 
table to defray the expenses of the communion service. 

Deacon Silas Smith and Deacon Enoch Wliite both died in 
1813, and two years later we find that Deacon Selah Smith and 
Deacon Levi Judd had left the pew under the pulpit and sat, ex- 
cept on Sacramental occasions, with the congregation. 

When the church was remodeled in 1825, the deacon's pew 
was removed and modern methods were then adopted at our 
communion services. 

In 1760 the population had increased to such an extent 
that the necessity for a larger meeting house was believed to 
be imperative. The dwellers in the eastern part of the town — 
now Granby — naturally expected that the new building would 
be placed, as they said, near the center of travel, and they sug- 
gested that it should be located on Cold Hill, a few rods north- 
east of the DeWitt homestead. This proposal was rejected, and 
a bitter contest ensued, which finally ended in the erection of 
two houses of worship, and a division of the town. 

In 1761 South Hadley began building a meeting house upon 
nearly the same site as that of the present church. A party of 
men from the eastern precinct carried off one night several of 
the huge posts intended for use in the framework, and hid them 
in the Pichawamiche Swamp. The story that some of the 
Granby women seated themselves upon these timbers and sang 



THE EVOLUTION OF A CHURCH 115 

songs of triumph is said to be untrue, but one thing is certain, 
they composed upon this occasion verses that were handed down 
for over a century. The rlijnning mania, so often prevalent in 
this section, sometimes proved an excellent safety valve. 

The old folks used to tell how a certain man accused the tax 
collector of having cheated him, and was preparing to take 
summary vengeance. One of the deacons sought to dissuade him 
in calm and persuasive tones. The aggrieved taxpayer replied 
in the vernacular of that day : 

"No man on this 'arth 
Can let down my wrath 
Like you." 

Upon this the deacon advised his companion to write the collec- 
tor a letter in rhyme. The man consented, but before the poem 
was finished his anger had subsided, and the matter was ad- 
justed to the satisfaction of both parties. 

This second church was probably a fair type of the archi- 
tectural fashion of that day. The building was sixty feet in 
length and forty-five in width, and there were three doors of 
entrance, two of which were eventually closed up. The pews 
were for the most part seven feet long and six feet wide. Hard, 
uncushioned seats ran round three sides of these generous en- 
closures, and in the center was an open space where the children 
could sit on their little footstools and crickets, and in summer- 
time beguile the long hours by eating dill and caraway, or, 
better still, fennel, which grew in wild luxuriance in one cor- 
ner of Mr. Woodbridge's garden. The wooden seats of the eld 
ers were hinged, and could be dropped down while the congre- 
gation were standing, allowing the old people to rest themselves 
by leaning against the high-backed pews. This could be done 
quietly, but mischievous boys sometimes tried to shorten the 
exercises by rattling the seats. 

From a journal of a much-tried pastor living in this region, 
we glean the following: 

"October 10th. After the first prayer, in the pew in which 
the young men sat, the seats made a terrible rattling, beyond 



116 IX OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

what I should have thought possible. After the blessing was 
pronounced C. Clark spoke and said that such rattling was 
contrary to all order and a violation of the Sabbath, and he 
thought I ought to reprove them. I replied to him: 'I am sensi- 
ble that this is indeed a violation of the Sabbath, and contrary 
to the gospel rule and order, but you know what Solomon says 
will be the fate of him who reproves a scorner. I have reproved 
them, but they will not forbear. I have done.' I went out of 
the pulpit. Mr. Clark said that he thought that all who feared 
God (or words to that purpose) ought to bear testimony against 
such practices, and that if the faithful would stand by him he 
would prosecute or drive it to the end of the law. I told liim I 
would bear testimony against it in all proper ways. I went out 
of the meeting house, saw Sergeant B., and said to him: 'Ser- 
geant B., I wonder that you would let or allow your son to be 
among them.' He said: 'I don't know that he is one of them.' 
I replied, 'It is time for you to know whether he is one of them 
or not. I have heard that he has said that you never forbid 
his rattling the seats. I would have you take care that you be 
not guilty of the sin of Eli.' The seats rattled P. M." 

The pulpit stood on the east side of the meeting house ; in 
front of it an aisle six feet in width, leading to the principal en- 
trance at the west door, afforded ample room for the catechizing 
of children during the Sunday service. This broad aisle was 
also supposed to add dignity to the office of minister, since all 
conversation must cease, even in the slightest whisper, at the 
moment Eev. Mr. Woodbridge appeared. After the belfry tower 
was added, about 1792, the town gave a new mark of their ap- 
preciation to Rev. Joel Hayes, who was then its pastor. It was 
the rule that the bell should begin to ring fifteen minutes before 
the commencement of divine service. But someone was ap- 
pointed to watch the house of Mr. Hayes, and inform the bell 
ringer the moment the minister and his family started for the 
church. Notice of this event was communicated by an immedi- 
ate change from the ringing to the tolling of the bell. This 
sound recalled the congregation, who in summertime often 
loitered about the common, but were expected to be in their 



THE EVOLUTIO^r OF A CHUECH 117 

propel' places when the minister entered. After Mr. Hayes had 
ascended the pulpit stairs and disposed of his hat, he turned and 
bowed to the people, which was the customary signal that they 
were at liberty to seat themselves. 

The steep and narrow stairway which led into the pulpit 
had a railing on the side and at the top a latticed gate whereby 
the minister could shut out all intruders. The corresponding 
floor space upon the other side of the pulpit was occupied by a 
pew intended for widows, and may have been built in after the 
Revolutionary War. There being no vestibule, the one stair- 
case leading to the gallery was placed in the southwest corner. 
Next it on the east stood a most undesirable pew, partly under 
the stairs. Some inventive mind suggested that this be named 
the Pouting Pew, and be used as a place of exile for unruly and 
violent members of the congregation. The proposal was re- 
ceived with favor, and the plan of the church in 1815 still re- 
tained this unique title. 

In 1791 Colonel Woodbridge presented the church with a 
bell, and later a tower was added to the meeting house upon its 
northern side. The old soimding board was utilized, it is said, 
by becoming a part of the second story of the belfry tower. A 
red satin curtain, also the gift of Colonel Woodbridge, was hung 
behind the pulpit, making a cheerful background for the min- 
ister. About 1826 the house was remodeled, and "slips" were 
su])stituted for the old-fashioned pews. The high pulpit was 
moved to the north side, and the west door was replaced by a 
window. Twelve years later, the increasing number of sem- 
inary girls led to the erection of more seats in the unoccupied 
floor space at the rear of the house. 

The front of a venerable Baptist church in Providence, 
Rhode Island, bore for many years this inscription: "Built for 
the worship of God, and to hold commencements in." Mary 
Lyon did not read this motto above the entrance to the South 
Hadley meeting house. She desired to have the graduating ex- 
ercises of her first senior class take place in the seminary hall. 
This seemed to her the most fitting plan. The trustees did not 
agree with her, and she finally yielded to their wishes. The 



118 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

first "Anniversary Day" was celebrated in the church, which 
was crowded to its utmost capacity. The wisdom of this ar- 
rangement was soon evident. Many of the donors to this new 
enterprise witnessed its success with a feeling of gratified pride. 
For seven years all members of the seminary were given free 
sittings in our church, but their numbers increased to such an 
extent that in 1844 the parish was compelled to erect a new 
edifice. The seminary trustees contributed three thousand dol- 
lars towards the cost of the building, and until it was destroyed 
by fire in 1875, the school enjoyed the free use of every third pew 
all over the church, and were not asked to pay any part of the 
minister's salary or other expenses, unless they used extra 
sittings. 

Miss Lyon showed her gratitude for this generosity by pre- 
senting the church with a large Bible, suitable for the pulpit. 
This was saved from two fires by the personal daring of men 
who entered the burning churches and rescued what is now a 
precious relic of the past. Many an able and vigorous sermou 
has been preached to us upon texts read aloud from this Bible, 
and in olden times the text of the sermon held a far more im- 
portant place than at present. Some pastors even required 
their congregations to rise and stand while it was being read. 
The minister knew as he looked at his congregation that on 
Monday morning every pupil in our schools would be asked to 
repeat the text and as much of the sermon as he could remember, 
and woe to the child who had forgotten it, or misbehaved at 
church. The practice of repeating the text and the heads of the 
sermon was kept up in female seminaries till the middle of the 
nineteenth century. Old people always said that the value of 
the habit thus formed could hardly be overestimated. 

Texts were at that time usually pertinent to the occasion. 
Thus, when on March 20, 1801, the Connecticut Eiver, swollen 
by the greatest freshet ever known in its history, burst its 
bounds and carried away banks and bridges, sweeping out flocks 
and herds, and flooding some of our meadows to a depth of 
twenty feet, our minister preached from Amos 9 :5 : "And it shall 
rise up wholly like a flood. ' ' Upon the death of one of our pas- 



THE EVOLUTIOX OP A CHURCH 119 

tors, the text of the funeral sermon was :" He maketli * * * 
his ministers a flame of fire." After the alarm at Lexington 
the text chosen was: "Wlien the host goeth forth against thine 
enemies, then keep thee from every wicked thing. ' ' Later when 
a company of soldiers set out for the army, a sermon was 
preached from the words: "The Lord thy God walketh in the 
midst of thy camp, to deliver thee and to give up thine enemies 
before thee." The last clause of a text from Jeremiah was 
most comforting to the friends of these volunteers, "And they 
shall come again from the land of the enemy." 

It was said of Eev. Joseph D. Condit, the town's fifth min- 
ister, that however severe upon evil-doers his sermon might 
be, his closing remarks always contained some gentle allusion 
to the boundless love and mercy of Christ, and his hearers went 
home with beautiful thoughts of God. He was a peace-loving 
man, and was greatly beloved in the community. Mr. Condit 
was in the habit of visiting each school once in two months, and 
his presence was welcomed in every neighborhood. His wife 
often accompanied him on his pastoral calls, and many and 
urgent were the requests that they would stay to tea. His usual 
reply was a pleasant "Thank you. But please remember that 
all we want for supper is your good bread and milk, and some 
of your gingerbread." 

Upon one of these occasions it began to rain during the 
afternoon, and as he was at the time suffering from a severe 
cold, his wife was a little anxious. Just as they were leaving the 
home of their hostess a messenger appeared with the request 
that he come to the bedside of a sick man who desired to speak 
with him. "It would be a great risk," said Mrs. Condit, firmly, 
"and you cannot go." "The man needs me," he replied, "and 
whatever I ought to do I can do," and he accordingly went. 

In 1847 he became very ill and one Sunday morning repeated 
slowly his favorite hjTnn, "Welcome, sweet day of rest." A few 
moments later he said, "Before this day closes I shall have en- 
tered into an eternal Sabbath. ' ' After the morning service had 
co mm enced he told those about him that he would like to bid 
each one of his people good-bye. This message was carried 



120 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

to the church, and one by one the worshipers went silently over 
to the parsonage, where he took each by the hand, speaking 
gentle words of farewell, and with tears in their eyes they re- 
turned to their places in the sanctuary. Before sunset he had, 
as the Hawaiians say, entered upon that narrow pathway which 
knows no backward turning. At his request there was placed 
upon his breast in the casket a paper containing only these three 
words — Grace, Grace, Grace. His daily rule of conduct was thus 
given in his own words: "Put off the world; put on Christ; 
live for God and an Eternal Heaven." 






CHAPTER SEVEN 

THE INDIANS 

HALF a century ago the old people used to say that a cer- 
tain elevation of land in the northern part of Granby, 
called Mt. Norwottuek, was formerly the winter head- 
quarters of the Indian tribe who ranged our forests. The truth 
of this statement is confirmed by an incident which was related 
by the late Moses White, of Southwick. 

One day in the month of February, many years ago, he 
was chopping wood on the south side of the Holyoke Range when 
his companion said: "I can show you cowslips in blossom," an 
assertion which Moses Wliite doubted. The next day, after 
having eaten their dinner, his companion led him up the side of 
Mt. Norwottuek to the place where a warm spring was flowing 
from beneath a rock. For several feet around this spring the 
grass was as green as in the middle of May, and close to it the 
cowslips were in full bloom, while beyond this patch of green 
the ground was deeply covered by snow. 

This may, at first thought, appear improbable, but a sim- 
ilar spring, it is said, still exists on Chicopee Plains, on the land 
belonging to Henry Baker, of Granby, and is one of those 
that unite to form Cooley's Brook, the source of Chicopee 's 
water supply. 

In summer the favorite camping grounds of the Indians 
were the one near the Slipe Meadow, in Granby, and the other 
a little above Smith's Ferry, between the two points of junc- 
tion where Stony Brook and Bachelor's River, as it was then 
called, flow into the Connecticut. 

But the advent of civilization has banished these ancient 
lords of the manor and the cutting away of the forests has so 
dwarfed the old-time river that it is now known only as Bach- 
elor's Brook, and from like causes the spring upon the side of 
Mt. Norwottuek may also have disappeared. Most of the 
mounds, too, each of which was supposed to mark an Indian 



122 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

grave, have been leveled, altliough two of them remained on or 
near Woodbridge street as late as 1850. The principal burial 
ground of the red men was on Bridge street, a little north of 
the drinking fountain. Head smashers, stone axes, tomahawks, 
arrows and other implements of war are still uncovered by plow 
and harrow. 

Many and varied are the legends that have been handed 
down by our forefathers ; perhaps the earliest and least widely 
known is the following: 

Although it was a time of peace, one of Hadley's young men 
had given great offense to the South Hadley Indians. It may be 
that he was too ardent and persevering a hunter south of the 
mountain upon lands that they looked upon as peculiarly their 
own, for in selling their domains they did not consider that they 
were giving up their right to dwell and hunt therein. But what- 
ever may have been their cause of complaint the feeling against 
him became so bitter that a council was called in order to decide 
ujDon some fitting punishment. One shrewd Indian, well versed 
in the ways of white people, suggested that the capture of the 
young man's sweetheart would prove a most effective penalty 
for his crime. This plan met with approval and was carried out, ' 
the girl being concealed in their camp at South Hadley on the 
eastern bank of the Connecticut. So quietly had the abduction 
been managed that for weeks no trace of the captured maiden 
could be obtained. 

At last her whereabouts was discovered; she was impris- 
oned in a wigwam at the rear of the Indian camp, and it is safe to 
conclude, since it was usual in all such cases, that two women 
slept side by side, across the doorway of the hut, making escape, 
as they supposed, impossible. One moonlight night the very 
best rowers in Hadley embarked at midnight and floated silently 
down the river. When they had nearly reached the encamp- 
ment they beached their boat, and with a cunning which they 
had learned from the Indians themselves, stole softly through 
the woods until they had reached their goal, and breathed rather 
than whispered their instructions to the prisoner. 

Long knives had been provided, the intention being to make 



THE INDIANS 1-23 

an opening in the back of the wigwam, an opening which would 
enable them to grasp the prostrate maiden by the shoulders and 
draw her gently forth. 

When this feat had been successfully accomplished the 
party retreated quickly and quietly to the boat. At this point a 
new difficulty awaited them. They had slipped silently down 
with the current, but oars must be used in the voyage up stream 
and the swish of the water would be sure to arouse the sleeping 
camp. The English had not yet learned the Indian art of row- 
ing silently by turning the blade of the oar flat and taking their 
next stroke without lifting it from the water. Go they must, and 
go they did, but their forecast proved true, for an Indian canoe 
was speedily manned and sent in pursuit of them. 

The young lover had chosen his crew wisely, and they held 
their distance well while with an even sweep the oars flashed 
and gleamed in the silver light. At the Oxbow they turned in 
order to make a circuit of the peninsula, the river not having 
then broken through its new channel, so that a neck of land con- 
nected it with the shore. Hardly had they rounded its western 
point when they saw that the Indians, instead of following in 
their wake, had landed, and were carrying the canoe upon their 
shoulders across this narrow strip of land. Launching it upon 
the other side, they were soon abreast of the white men and 
between them and Hadley. For the moment no hope remained. 
Then someone remembered that the chief, who lived upon the 
island north of thom, was one whose authority was respected 
by every member of the tribe, and they resolved to ask his pro- 
tection. The Indians divined their purpose, and they also 
steered for the island, the two parties landing at nearly the 
same time. The Indians wished to tomahawk the whites, but the 
old chief forbade them. Each told his story, both claiming the 
captive. After some meditation the chief announced that the 
case should be decided by a wrestling match between one from 
among the red men and one from the rescue party. Whoever 
first threw his opponent, his side won. 

The Indians were jubilant, for one of their most famous 
athletes was with them, and he was immediately advanced as 



I'M ■ IX OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

their champion. The young lover begged that he might be the 
one to contend with him. "It is your right," said his comrades, 
and the contest began. For some time victory seemed to hang 
in the balance, the one was supple and experienced, the other 
nerved to desperation by the peril of his sweetheart. At last, 
by an almost superhuman effort, the young white man threw 
his adversary. 

The chief then directed the Indians to return to their camp, 
an order which was sullenly obeyed. 

Then the exultant white men rowed merrily home, and if 
their song of triumph, as they passed down the broad street, 
wakened their sleeping neighbors, there were none to say them 
nay, for the whole town rejoiced at the return of the captive 
maiden. 

There were other traditions with a more tragic ending. 
One of these was the story of the Indian girl whose lover had 
been slain by the white men, and who climbed to the summit 
of the cliff overhanging that mass of trap rock formerly called 
the Devil's Garden, stretching up her arms toward Heaven as if 
to invoke Divine vengeance upon her foes, she threw herself 
down the jagged incline, and among the early settlers the place 
was afterwards known as Heartbreak Hill. 

Then, too, there is a legend that the last of his tribe stood 
on Titan 's Pier and, surveying their once happy hunting ground, 
now tilled by the relentless hand of the white man, leaped, hope- 
less and disheartened, into the deep pool that waited beneath. 

"South Hadley always hated the Indians," was the codicil 
to nearly every local legacy of fact which has been handed down 
to posterity concerning the aborigines, and indeed why should 
they not? The Norwottucks, it is true, were more quiet and 
peaceable than most of their race. But there were savage tribes 
farther afield whose unparalleled cruelties will never be forgot- 
ten. Take, for example, the case of Deacon Joseph Eastman, 
one of the early proprietors of our town and the friend and 
helper of our first minister. 

Deacon Joseph was the ancestor of all the Eastmans and 
most of the Smiths in this region. Joseph, while still a youth. 



THE INDIANS 135 

entered the family of Rev. John Williams of Deerfield in order 
to prepare himself for the work of the ministry. Two soldiers 
who had been quartered there for the protection of the town slept 
in the second story of the dwelling. 

One cold night in winter, when the ground was covered with 
ice and snow and the wind swept remorselessly past, they were 
awakened by the sound of heavy blows upon the front door 
and the voice of the minister calling up the stairway that the 
Indians were upon them. One of the soldiers, with a quickness 
of perception that easily accounted for his rapid promotion in 
military rank, throw his heavy cloak from the window and, 
^barefooted as he was, jumped out upon it. Not so Joseph and 
the other soldier. Hardly had they time to grasp their shoes 
and stockings before the door crashed in and they foimd them- 
selves in the hands of their savage foes. Bound hand and foot, 
they waited, shivering in the icy air, while the house was being 
pillaged. The babj", wakened by the noise, uttered a cry, but the 
little voice was instantly stilled forever. 

So sudden and simultaneous had been the attack upon the 
whole neighborhood that the underground passages leading 
from house to house, which had been prepared for just such an 
emergenc)', proved wholly useless. 

After the work of devastation was complete the captives 
were led from the house, which was then burned to the ground. 
Who can tell of that long journey to Canada? 

By day Joseph marched side by side with his Indian mas- 
ter, over miles of ice and snow, and at night, weary, footsore, 
and half famished, laid himself down to a sleep broken by fitful 
dreams of the home he had left behind. 

He was prevented from making any attempt to escape, not 
by the watchfulness of the savages, but by their dire threat, 
which he knew was certain of execution, that if any man fled in 
the night the remainder of the captives would be massacred the 
next day. 

His one pleasant memory of the journey was of a kindly 
French woman, who invited them in and gave them a dinner. 
But great was the indignation of their Indian masters when ^he 



126 m OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

seated her white guests at table with herself and bade the red 
men eat their dinner sitting on mats before the fire. 

After three years of captivity in Canada, Joseph Eastman 
was discovered and ransomed, mainly through the efforts of the 
clever young soldier who had escaped through the window. But 
the hardships and privations of that time had so dulled the fire 
and vigor of his youth that he no longer sought to enter the 
ministry, and returned to the farm of his grandfather, the Hon. 
Peter Tilton. 

His son William was early in life appointed clerk of the 
church in South Hadley, and afterwards was for many years a 
deacon in Granby. Another sou, Benjamin, generally known as 
Squire Eastman, lived at the Five Corners, in the house now 
owned by Henry Moody. 

Although South Hadley suffered less at the hands of the In- 
dians than did many of the neighboring towns, yet there was 
always this element of uncertainty in regard to the movements 
of the red men. No one could foretell what would be their next 
point of attack. 

The treatment of the first white captive, the great-grand- 
father of the town's third minister, taken through South Had- 
ley on his way to Canada, is thus described: 

"Coming to South Hadley Falls, the party crossed the Con- 
necticut River by fording and swimming and spent the ensuing 
night at the base of Mt. Holyoke. The captive was secured 
during the night by being placed upon his back with each arm 
and ankle strongly fastened to a sapling and with sticks so 
crossing his body as to be lain upon by an Indian on each side. 
He passed most of his nights bound in this manner, during his 
long march to Canada. His sufferings were excessive and al- 
most without intermission, which in most cases would have 
brought the victim to the grave." 

It was nearly seven years before he again stood at the foot 
of Mt. Holyoke, and this time as a free man. 

The spirit of the red men toward the white was well illus- 
trated by the answer of an old Indian woman who, in time of 
peace, had joined one of our local churches. A feUow member. 



THE INDIANS 127 

having made some unkind remarks in regard to her, the min- 
ister gave him his choice between apologizing to Old Zuba or 
being suspended from communion. Rather sullenly he told the 
Indian woman that he was sorry and hoped she would forgive 
and forget. "Yes," she answered briskly, "I'll forgive and 
forget, but / shall remember it as long as I live." 

One of the strangest retribiitions of history dated back to 
the flight of the Indians from this and surrounding towns, 
which occurred on a certain Friday in August, 1676, after the 
downfall of Phillip. 

Two hundred Indians, men, women and children, had gath- 
ered at South Hadley Falls, where during the afternoon they 
constructed rafts upon which they poled themselves across the 
Connecticut Eiver, camping for the night upon the farther shore. 
Here they kindled many fires, partly for the purpose of cooking 
their suppers and partly, doubtless, as a protection against wild 
beasts. As there was at that time no human habitation be- 
tween them and Mt. Holyoke, they apparently had no fear of dis- 
covery. But the vigilant eyes of Springfield's sentinels detected 
the columns of smoke, and the next day, finding that the trail of 
the Indians came from the Northeast, they so reported upon 
their return. Meanwhile the red men had proceeded westward 
and had passed Westfield, from whence a messenger was quickly 
despatched to Major Pjmchon, at Springfield, telling him the 
Indians had skirted the town. While they considered the mat- 
ter an unexpected ally arrived. 

During the previous year every house in Brookfield had 
been burned by the Indians, and the inhabitants had been obliged 
to abandon the settlement, and in their once well-tilled fields 
the former were now raising a crop of corn. 

To Major Talcott it seemed a pity that our land should af- 
ford sustenance for the savage foe, and taking with him both 
white men and Mohegans he went to Quabaug, as it was called, 
and cut down all the corn. Returning by way of Springfield 
he arrived on this very Saturday. Resting his men for a single 
night, he started in pursuit of the enemy. Not expecting such 
an army, the Westfield housekeepers had failed to fill their big 



128 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

ovens, and food was not to be had in large quantities. But Tal- 
cott and his men hurried forward on what was destined to be 
thenceforth known as "The Hungry March." 

Sunday and Monday passed, but the Indians were not over- 
taken. Food was so scarce that the Major sent back all of his 
horses and the greater part of his men. He retained the pro- 
visions, of which little remained, and pressed on. Tuesday he 
came up with the Indians at the Housatonic River. Here he 
gave battle, killing forty-five and taking fifteen prisoners, with 
but the loss of one man, a Mohegan Indian. 

In this battle the cruel and treacherous Sachem of Brook- 
field was slain; but the rest of the Indians, who escaped, crossed 
the state line between New York and Massachusetts and settled 
upon the farther side of the border. 

The Governor of Connecticut was so much pleased with 
Major Talcott's exploit that he appointed a day of thanksgiv- 
ing, which was kept all over the State. 

These Indians remained rmdisturbed for nearly eighty 
years; the older members of the tribe handing down to their 
descendants the story of this terrible march from South Had- 
ley to the Housatonic. The memory of this injury still un- 
avenged, although slumbering, was not allowed to die. 

Now, however, it was a time of peace and people had grown 
careless. Emboldened by the thought of their French allies, 
these Indian refugees believed that the time had come in which 
to avenge their ancestors. Sallying forth, burning, pillage and 
massacre, marked every step of their path ; and thus did Hamp- 
shire County first learn that she must prepare for immediate 
war. 

Within less than a decade Granby and South Hadley had 
sent forth their brave sons to do battle in the French and In- 
dian wars that were devastating the land. Some of them had 
fallen by the wayside and some of them had languished in cap- 
tivity. Yet such was the loyalty of our town that eighty names 
of soldiers were entered upon its service list. Nor were the 
other towns less patriotic. There were sharp crises in this 
war when mounted messengers rode in hot haste for reinforce- 



THE INDIANS 129 

ments. One of our adjoining towns sent in answer to this call 
every man between the ages of sixteen and sixty except the 
minister. 

It seemed to us a dreadful thing when, during the Civil 
War, we learned that one in every ten among our able-bodied 
men had enlisted. Yet in the French and Indian War, in 1757, 
one-third of all the men in Massachusetts were in the field, and 
South Hadley had sent a still larger proportion of her sons. 

Many strange things happened in Hampshire County dur- 
ing this war. The movements of the Indians were so silent and 
stealthy that the unsuspecting inhabitants often fell into ambush 
through mere carelessness. This was illustrated in the case of a 
little girl named Molly Smead, who lived a few miles to the 
north of us. She had been warned against going near the edge 
of the wood, but in the excitement of a game of tag ran to the 
very border of the forest. An Indian lurking near caught her 
up and, placing his hand over her mouth in order to stifle her 
cries for help, carried her back to the camp. From there she 
was sent to a village in Canada, whose chief showed her much 
compassion, shielding her as far as possible from cruel treat- 
ment. 

The inhabitants of the village demanded that, as was the 
custom with other white captives, she should "run the gaunt- 
let." The chief, believing that on account of her youth this would 
mean certain death, refused for a time to allow it, but the tumult 
increased to such a degree that he was obliged to yield, and ap- 
pointed a day for this ordeal. 

The decision was made known to Molly by an old Indian 
who could speak broken English. He had noticed that she was 
an attractive child and had a musical voice, and so added in a 
whisper: "Missey Molly, you sing and dance all the way and 
they not whip you so much." 

At the appointed time all the men, women and children in 
the neighborhood were arranged facing one another, in two long 
lines, between which she must pass. They stood with right hand 
uplifted, each holding a pliant rod with which to strike her as 



130 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

she ran. Molly, following the instruction of her friendly adviser 
and singing in her sweetest voice, went dancing gaily down the 
line, while the Indians stood listening in motionless surprise. 
One old drunken woman gave her a stinging blow which made 
the flesh quiver beneath the one thin garment she was permit- 
ted to wear, but without hesitating for an instant she prolonged 
her song, until she had reached the end. Then arose a Babel 
of voices clamoring fiercely for her to run the gauntlet again, 
but this the chief refused. 

Meantime the Connecticut troops had taken prisoner a 
young Indian girl, whom the Governor of that State offered in 
exchange for Molly Smead. To this the red men would not at 
first consent, but after a sufficiently large amount of redemption 
money had been added the transfer was effected, and Molly 
returned to her home in safety. 

There were some humorous as well as tragical incidents in 
this war. In this same locality was a fort so large that in case 
of Indian alarm all the inhabitants of the village could find 
shelter for the night. Upon one such occasion the sentinel who 
went on duty at midnight was a young man of but little experi- 
ence in Indian warfare. 

Soon after twelve o'clock the moon arose, but obscured by 
clouds through which came a dull, uncertain light. Presently the 
young guard observed a figure beneath the spreading branches 
of a large oak tree which stood outside the fort. Thinking it 
some belated neighbor, he demanded, "Who goes there?" The 
figure moved slightly, but there was no reply. Raising his voice, 
he repeated his challenge a second time, with the same result 
as before. Aiming his gun carefully, he shouted, "Who goes 
there? Answer, or I fire." Again receiving no reply, he dis- 
charged his piece, which aroused the whole garrison, who at once 
commenced a furious fusillade against the dark object beneath 
the tree. Finding that they had produced no effect they rested 
on their arms, but watched until the first beams of morning light 
disclosed the innocent target of their marksmanship. A woman 
of the garrison had washed her dress and hung it from one of 



THE INDIANS 131 

the lower branches of the oak to dry, where it had fluttered all 
night in the wind. It was, of course, ruined, being completely 
riddled with bullet holes, and the verdict of the sleepy and dis- 
comfited garrison was that it served her right for depriving 
them of a night's rest. 

It will be remembered that from the beginning of King 
William's War, in 1688, to the Treaty of Paris, in 1763, more 
than half of the time was filled with scenes of war and blood- 
shed. The struggle between England and France for supremacy 
in America entailed incessant watchfulness on the part of the 
colonists. The Indians, inspired by their French allies, made 
fresh attacks upon some of the villages about us, compelling the 
inhabitants to forsake their homes and take refuge in the larger 
towns. 

When the call came for more soldiers. South Hadley re- 
sponded by giving the very flower of her young men to the 
army. Three of our pioneers sent their five sons to assist in the 
reduction of Canada, William, John, Peter and Josiali Mon- 
tague and Phineas Smith. 

Peter Montague was at the siege of Louisbiirg in 1745. No 
sooner had our troops landed than the French spiked the can- 
non in their outer fortifications and retired behind the inner de- 
fenses, which were supposed to be impregnable. 

Now Peter's major was a gimsmith and declared the can- 
non could be repaired. Permission having been given, he 
selected twenty assistants, drilled out and reversed the cannon, 
and the siege was then commenced. 

But it was necessary to drag their own artillery across a 
morass impassable for horses or oxen, so Peter and his com- 
rades placed straps about their shoulders, and for fourteen 
nights dragged the cannon through mud and water reaching to 
the ankles, and in some cases even to the knees. They had no 
bed but Mother Earth and no tent to shelter them, only rude huts 
made of turf and brushwood. This hardship and exposure was 
too great for one so young as Peter, and the ultimate song of 
triumph fell upon ears that were deaf to its notes. 



132 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

Jobn Woodbridge, the eldest son of our minister, instead 
of studying theology as was expected, spent eight years in the 
defense of his country during the French and Indian wars. 
Entering the army as a private, he rose to the rank of lieuten- 
ant simply upon his own merit. 

He was present at the siege of Quebec and took part in that 
memorable battle on the Plains of Abraham, in which both Wolfe 
and Montcalm were slain. 

Doubtless he always remembered one incident of his peril- 
ous passage up the St. Lawrence on the evening preceding this 
assault. When the sentinel at the fort challenged them in 
French with the customary "Who goes there?" one of the oars- 
men replied in the same language, "The provision boat. Don't 
speak so loud or the English will hear you," and, holding their 
breath with suppressed laughter, they glided past. 

The death of Montcalm might not have seemed an unde- 
served retribution to Job Alvord, another of our young soldiers. 
He had been one of a beleaguered garrison surrounded by the 
army of Montcalm, which outnumbered them three to one. Mes- 
sengers had been despatched to Fort Edward, fifteen miles away, 
for aid, a request which the commanding general refused, send- 
ing them in return a letter advising immediate surrender. This 
communication was intercepted by Montcalm, who forwarded it 
to the besieged garrison, offering terms of capitulation which 
for those times do not seem to have been severe. 

On condition that they would not fight for a year and a 
half, they were promised safe escort to Fort Edward and per- 
mission to carry with them their arms and baggage. When they 
reached the woods a mile from the fort the Indians, contrary to 
all stipulations, fell upon them, killing some, wounding others 
and plundering all who came within their reach. 

Job Alvord escaped with his life and probably considered 
that this act of treachery released him from his parole, for we 
hear of him shortly after as holding the position of lieutenant 
in the army. 

The first marriage registered in our town was that of this 



THE INDIANS 133 

same Job Alvord and Eebekah Smith, both of South Hadley. 
There had, however, been other marriages previous to this which 
failed of registration, for Josiah, sou of Peter Montague, had 
wedded his cousin Abigail, and was soon after sent on an expe- 
dition against the French at Crown Point, from which he did 
not return until three years later. 

In one respect their manifold experiences by sea and land 
were fruitful of good to the men of our town. It was an ex- 
cellent preiJaratory school for the War of the Revolution so 
soon to follow. It taught them the use of arms, bayonets hav- 
ing now been introduced for the first time. It made the coun- 
try conscious of its own strength, and in other towns as well 
as in this the leading soldiers in the French and Indian wars 
became the officers of the Revolutionary Army. 

It was not until many years after the War of Independ- 
ence had ended that the Indians finally disappeared from our 
to"\vn. Roving bands often visited the scattered farmhouses, 
asking for a drink of cider, or perhaps a seat at the dinner 
table. They were much given to pilfering, but still displayed 
their national characteristic, and were grateful toward those 
who afforded them food and shelter. Months afterwards these 
persons who had befriended them were the recipients of numer- 
ous gifts. 

A daughter of Dr. G. G. Hitchcock, of South Hadley Falls, 
thus describes an incident in the life of one of her ancestors, 
who had purchased a "shay" in the early days: 

"In the first stage of his pride of ownership an Indian chief 
in the neighborhood came to borrow it in order to visit a chief in 
New York State. 'I will return it at the end of three months,' 
he said. The owner looked at his resplendent purchase in de- 
spair, but the Indians were too powerful to be refused. So he 
gave them the shay, never expecting to see it again, picturing 
to himself the forest paths, the rude wood roads it must trav- 
erse. He was mistaken. At the end of the three months, punc- 
tual to the day, came the old chief and his followers, bearing 
with them the chaise. Not a scratch marred its shining sur- 



134 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

face ; not a mark of wear was on it. All the long way the tribe 
had made a path before it. Think of the figure that proud chief 
had been able to cut before his rival brother ! It was at a time 
when the Indians committed constant depredations upon the 
whites, but from that day on my ancestor was exempt. His 
grain, vegetables and fruit grew and ripened unmolested. Under 
cover of the darkness game and furs were silently left at his 
door by his Indian friends; his rights were protected, and he 
was beloved by them. Up to his last days he used to say that 
he had been recompensed more than the cost of many shays." 

Our last Indian visitor on record appears to have been the 
one who, about 1835, called at the house of Mr. Simeon Judd, 
and his carved walking stick, left by mistake, is still in pos- 
session of the family. 

Several of our oldest families can claim a remote ancestry 
of Indian descent. In Colonial times a young man from North- 
ampton built himself a house on the eastern side of the Connecti- 
cut, and — a rare occurrence in those days — fell in love with 
one of the dusky maidens who inhabited our South Hadley for- 
ests. The girl reciprocated his affection, but when the lover 
asked permission to marry her the tribe held a cotmcil, and for- 
bade the ceremony. After waiting for some time, finding the 
verdict remained unchanged, the maiden suggested that she 
leave the camp by stealth, and conceal herself from her rela- 
tives until such time as they would give their consent to the 
union. She was secreted in Northampton, while the Indians 
searched the woods and streams for a trace of the missing girl. 
Meanwhile a close watch was kept upon the movements of the 
young man, who, anticipating this scrutiny, did not leave his 
farm, except to attend divine service. When interrogated, he 
would give them no information, and at last they promised if the 
girl would come back the ceremony might take place. She ac- 
cordingly returned, and, as the fairy books say, "they lived hap- 
pily ever after." 

The red men have vanished from hill and glen; but even 
now if you stand in autumn beneath the trees that fringe the 



THE IXDIAXS 135 

banks of our loved Connecticut, you may still catch an echo of 
the old refrain: 

"Dark as the frost-nipped leaves that strew the ground. 
The Indian hunter here his shelter found; 
Here cut his bow, and shaped his arrows true ; 
Here built his wigwam, and his bark canoe; 
Speared the quick salmon leaping up the fall ; 
And slew the deer, without the rifle ball." 



CHAPTER EIGHT 

SOUTH HADLEY IN THE REVOLUTION 

HAEDLY had the last echoes of the French and Indian 
wars died away, when a new danger threatened our coun- 
try. England had assisted us in our struggle with 
France, by sending us both men and money, and now determined 
to reimburse herself for this expense by taxing her colonies. 

To this end Parliament, in March, 1765, passed a bill known 
as the Stamp Act, which was not to become operative until 
November first of that year. This enactment decreed that no 
deed, bond, note, or mortgage should thenceforth be valid unless 
it was written upon stamped paper, and some of these stamps 
ran as high as thirty dollars each. Also no marriage should 
be legal unless a certificate to that effect were made out on 
stamped paper. 

This edict awakened the most violent opposition in our 
town, and one of our ministers publicly declared that it was 
unjust, oppressive, and subversive of every principle of free- 
dom. 

The conclusions of South Hadley were at this era a matter 
of some importance since there were but four larger towns in 
Western Massachusetts. Springfield, stood first, then West- 
field ; Northampton ranked next, followed by Sheffield and South 
Hadley. Worcester and Palmer had not then come into being, 
or were too small to be noticed. This census taking was a stum- 
bling block to many of the elders in the community, they re- 
minded their friends how King David had "numbered the peo- 
ple," and how severe was his punishment, and they predicted 
that famine and pestilence would be the result of the present 
action. 

It is interesting to note in this connection that in one of the 
annual Thanksgiving sermons of that day we find our old min- 
ister mentioning as one of the great causes for gratitude the 



SOUTH HADLEY IX THE REVOLUTIOX 137 

good health that had pervaded the comnmnity throughout the 
past year. 

November first, the day on which the Stamp Act was to 
take effect, was everywhere observed as a fast, all places of 
business being closed. In cities, the morning was ushered in by 
the tolling of church bells, and this was continued through the 
day. EfiSgies were placed in rude cofiBns bearing the inscrip- 
tion, "Liberty, aged 145 years." These were escorted to 
the place of interment by crowds of citizens, who stood rever- 
ently about the grave listening to the funeral oration, while 
the minute gims, at intervals, boomed their mournful echo. 

South Hadley had no church bell to toll, but we may be sure 
that Moody Corner sent her drummer to lead with mufflled beats 
the long procession of mourners that paraded the streets. 
And John Lane, Junior, skilled in the use of the conch shell, 
may have evoked sad notes to pimctuate the slow march. We 
may feel certain from the aftermath that all who possessed, or 
could borrow, black clothes fell into line, and though Rev. Mr. 
Woodbridge, being over sixty years of age, may not have been 
at their head, it is safe to presume that Rev. Simon Backus, of 
our eastern parish, was there. 

The privations of our early settlers had taught their chil- 
dren as well as themselves habits of self-denial, and now it was 
not hard for them to follow the advice of their spiritual direc- 
tor and refrain from the purchase of English luxuries, which 
Major John "Woodbridge and Deacon William Eastman were 
wont to deal out to them. 

The resentment against the Stamp Act was so great 
throughout the country that in the following spring it was re- 
pealed. The news of this event reached here in July, and the 
town immediately appointed a day of thanksgiving. The ser- 
mon preached upon this occasion by one of our ministers has 
been preserved, and some brief extracts will perhaps illustrate 
the dawning spirit of the Revolution which had already begun to 
pervade the town. 

His text was taken from the twelfth Psalm: "The snare 



138 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

is broken and we are escaped." After reading the Proclama- 
tion, he begins: 

"We are informed in general in the Proclamation that it is 
God's having graciously inclined the King, and both Houses of 
Parliament, so far to harken to the Petitions of his loyal and 
dutiful subjects as to consent to a total repeal of the Stamp 
Act. To understand the true ground of obligation to Gratitude 
and Thankfulness hence arising, it is necessary to take into con- 
sideration the Nature and Genius of the Act, and the fatal con- 
sequences which might reasonably have been expected, had it 
been enforced. * * * it was illegal and inconsistent with 
the Magna Charta. There are two things in which the Act ap- 
pears unconstitutional; the one is the exacting money of the 
subject without his consent; another is depriving the subject in 
certain cases of the Liberty of Trial by Jury. This principle is 
no better than that of an absolute unlimited Eight and Author- 
ity in the Euler or Magistrate to take away the Property of 
the subject whenever he pleases, and to whatever degree he 
thinks proper. Only admit that the King or Supreme Ruling 
Authority has a right to tax the subjects without their consent, 
it will follow by undesirable consequence that he has a right to 
take away their whole estate, rendering them nothing but Slaves 
and Vassals, and reducing them to Beggary and Starvation. 

"The execution of such an Act or Law must have been a 
very great calamity, and consequently its being surrendered 
must be a Very Great Mercy and Deliverance. 

"It has been the declared opinion of some of considerable 
knowledge in Public Affairs that all the money in the country 
would not be sufficient to answer the annual amount of the 
Duties thence arising. 

"One of the most obvious as well as shocking Consequences 
which would doubtless have ensued from a continuance of the 
Stamp Act is that of Civil Wars, Slaughter and Bloodshed in 
almost all Parts of the Land. And what Numbers would have 
fallen by the Sword in the High Places of the Field before the 
country would have been brought to submit, we cannot deter- 
mine. 



I 



SOUTH HADLEY m THE EEVOLUTION^ 139 

"Considering the Vast Disproportion and strength of this 
country as compared with Great Britain, it would be stupidity 
and madness to imagine that we would finally stand out and de- 
fend ourselves against them, by which means we should prob- 
ably have been stripped of all our Privileges, Properties, and 
Liberties, as having forfeited them by Rebellion and Treason. 
* * * Therefore, with Regard to the late Merciful Dis- 
pensation of Divine Providence, we should consider that it is 
God indeed who hath done this great thing for us, whereof we 
are glad, and not ascribe it to our Wisdom, Policy, Spirited Op- 
position, Resolute Resistance, Humble Petitions, etc. But it 
behooves us to cry out with the Psalmist, 'Not unto us, not unto 
us, oh. Lord, but unto Thy Name be the Glory.' " 

During the following year political matters seemed quieter 
and life moved on in its accustomed channels. Our people gath- 
ered in their new meeting houses, with their high pulpits and 
great, square pews, but they carried with them their loyalist 
HjTnn Books, and as the precentor lined out the words, "And 
own the King the Lord hath made," the whole congregation sang 
them with undiminished fervor. 

The English Crown had long ago claimed that it held a 
copyright upon the Holy Scriptures, and to the title page of 
the Bible had been added this clause, "Printed by the Authority 
of His Majesty, King George III." But before the Revolution 
had ended, so bitter was the hatred against their sovereign, that 
one of our deacons actually tore out these obnoxious words from 
the title page of his Bible, and others doubtless followed his ex- 
ample. 

In 1767 fresh complications arose from England's attempt 
to levy a tax upon all the tea, glass and paint brought to Amer- 
ica. In this juncture, covenants for the Non-importation of 
British Goods were promptly circulated and signed, both here 
and elsewhere, but these promises were not always kept. Build- 
ing windowless houses was not to be thought of, and glass was 
one of the prohibited articles ; for Parliament had, with cunning 
foresight, taxed the very things that were considered in- 
dispensable. People soon began to retaliate by eating less meat, 



140 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

lamb and mutton, thus increasing the number of sheep and 
avoiding the necessity of importing wool from England. Tra- 
dition tells us that some of the dwellers south of Mt. Holyoke, 
in their patriotic zeal, used the flesh of the woodchuck as a 
substitute for mutton. 

Public opinion was plainly indexed by the action of Harvard 
College. Though many of the students were the sons of rich 
men, and possessed clothing of the finest broadcloth, and the 
long, silk stockings so universally worn, yet the senior class of 
1768, in order to show that they could dispense with English 
luxuries, voted to graduate in suits of homespun, and carried 
their resolution into effect. 

As a result of the popular indignation, the tax bill was 
later on rescinded; the duty upon tea, however, being still re- 
tained. 

In 1770, another piece of British jurisprudence fanned into 
flame the smoldering embers of Colonial wrath. South Hadley 
had always been famous for the multiplicity of its town meet- 
ings. If there was a dispute in regard to the location of a new 
church, or a quarrel over the seating of the meeting house, the 
records show that they were willing to hold two a week if neces- 
sary, although in cold weather they were sometimes glad to ad- 
journ to the schoolhouse or tavern for their discussions. Now 
they found themselves forbidden to call any town meetings 
unless they had first obtained the consent of the Royal Governor ; 
even then they could hold but one meeting a year, and that sim- 
ply for the election of officers. But if the Governor chose he 
could order another one to be held. 

Then, too, our town had for fifteen years been in the habit 
of drawing its jurors by the same method in use at the present 
day. Now they were informed that by direction of the Crown, a 
sheriff appointed by the Governor would select his own jury. 

During the following year South Hadley was ordered to 
hold a second town meeting, because at the first one, "the offi- 
cers did not take the oath respecting other government money." 
Also Dr. Woodbridge and Eleazer Goodman had not been sworn 
into their offices. 




>L. i;i-i;i;i,i:s \vi."ii>i:i;iL"_;i-; 



SOUTH HADLEY IX THE REYOLrTIOX 111 

Doctor Benjamin Buggies Woodbridge appears to have 
been at this time the acknowledged bead of the Liberty Party. 
He was a man in the very prime of life, well educated, and a 
clever and original thinker. His keen, penetrating eyes seemed 
to read one's very thoughts, but his smile was gentle and win- 
ning. He was a firm disciplinarian and was made a colonel dur- 
ing the first few months of the war, but was never arbitrary, 
and kept both the respect and love of his soldiers. 

In process of time a new covenant for the Non-consump- 
tion of British Goods was prepared, and Colonel Woodbridge 
began to hold Libert}' Meetings in the towns about us. In one 
of these, an evening meeting at which he presided, he awakened 
such enthusiasm that the next morning several of the leading 
citizens hastily prepared a covenant, and carried it to their 
minister for his signature. 

After reading it he told the committee that he objected to 
signing it because there was no recognition of God in it, the 
name of the Deity not occurring even once. Fhished with ex- 
citement, his parishioners said, threateningly, "We tell you 
plainly, that if you do not sign this paper, you will be con- 
sidered and treated as an enemy of your country" (the latter 
phrase being the shibboleth of the Wings, and the dread of the 
Tories). The parson was not a tall man, but at these words he 
fairly towered. "This," he cried, "is not Liberty, but Tyranny, 
and I doubt if King George himself would be more tyrannical. ' ' 
The matter was finally compromised by his writing on the paper 
his reason for not signing, and adding that he was a friend to 
the country and should aid it by every means in his power. And 
in coming years nobly did he redeem his promise. 

Ebenezer Stoddard, one of South Hadley's soldiers, had 
resisted an attempt on the part of a deputy sheriff to arrest 
him. The following extract from the warrant shows how the 
minutest matters were referred to the King: "He did then 
and there resist, oppose and hinder the said sheriff of the due 
execution of his office, all which is contrary to Law, and Peace 
of the said Lord the King, his Crown and Dignity" * * * 
"Being put to plead, he says that he will not contend with the 



143 m OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

King, and he submits himself to the King's grace. The Court 
having considered of the Offense, do order that the said Eben- 
ezer pay a Fine of twenty shillings for his Majesty's use; and 
cost of Prosecution, taxed at one pound, twelve shillings and 
two pence." 

Everybody had been taught, from their childhood up, to 
honor the King. If his Majesty died, funeral sermons were 
preached as soon as the news reached this part of the country. 
"God save the King!" was heard in both home and sanctuary, 
and it was hard for the older people to unlearn in a moment the 
teaching of years. 

The whole trend of public opinion was now changed. In 
Harvard College the students had always been ranked, not ac- 
cording to their scholastic attainments, but in the order of their 
social standing. The sons of rich and influential men could 
have the best rooms, help themselves first at table, and sit in 
the highest places at chaioel. Now they were to be catalogued 
alphabetically, and the rod of correction would pay no regard 
to caste, whatever might be said of the prayer which was ex- 
pected to precede or follow the whipping, when profanity on 
the part of a student was to be punished. It was now apparent 
that the leveling of social distinctions had begun in earnest. 

England had found her experiment of taxing the Colonies 
a costly one. For every dollar of revenue that she had received, 
she had expended more than a hundred times that amount. She 
had quartered her soldiers upon the citizens of Boston, with a 
demand that they should be supplied with "Food and lodging, 
cheese and rum." "Nothing to eat, drink or wear from Great 
Britain" had been our country's response; even the custom of 
wearing mourning for the dead had been in a measure aban- 
doned, since much of the black cloth in use had been imported. 

South Hadley had appointed a Committee of Inspection, 
whose duty it was to visit from house to house in order to for- 
bid all use of East India tea. It had been customary here, if a 
neighbor called in the afternoon, to greet her with the words, 
"How do you do? Won't you take off your things, and stay to 
tea?" The word "supper" was unknown in polite vocabularies. 



SOUTH HADLEY IN THE EEVOLUTION 113 

Substitutes for the "cup that cheers but not inebriates" must 
be found. Every garden had its patch of currant and goose- 
berry bushes, the leaves of which were dried and steeped, mak- 
ing a drink called "HjT)erion." There was a plant named Lab- 
rador Tea, whose blossom resembled that of hard hack, and 
this also was in popular use as a beverage. Infusions of spear- 
mint, pennyroyal, or sage often appeared at the evening meal, 
though the latter was thought to savor too much of illness. 

On December 16, 1773, matters were brought to a crisis by 
the action of a party of young men, of whom Dr. A. J. Miller, for 
many years a resident physician of South Hadlej', was one. At 
this time three ships laden with tea had entered Boston Harbor. 
Dr. Miller was, at this time, probably a student in Harvard 
College, and on that memorable night he and a score or more of 
his associates banded themselves together in order to throw 
this cargo overboard. Before starting, everyone pledged him- 
self to the undertaking, agreeing that if any one of their num- 
ber flinched he should be thrown overboard with the tea. In 
silence they proceeded to their work. Some of them tried to 
secrete a small portion of the Old Hyson to carry home with 
them, but as soon as this was discovered, jackknives were out 
and the pockets slitted open. Dr. Miller contrived to bring away 
a handful, which was preserved as a souvenir for over a hun- 
dred and thirty years, and then lost through the blunder of a 
careless servant. 

After this episode, things went from bad to worse. The 
courts were prevented from sitting, and mobbing and rioting 
ensued. An old diary, written May 1, 1777, states that no courts 
had been held in this vicinity since September, 1773, and adds, 
"Lived without the exercise of law for four years, and made it 
do pretty well." 

Our town had certainly cause to be proud of its compara- 
tive freedom from disorders, while the towns about us were rent 
by internal strife. There was one exception to this rule. Joseph 
Ashley, the hated spy and informer, avowed himself a Tory, 
upon which, as we learn, the people "made it so hot for him 
that he was obliged to flee to New York." There were others 



144 IX OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

here who espoused the cause of Great Britain, but most of these 
chose a home in Halifax, where the King had promised them 
protection, and offered to each the gift of a farm. Very possibly 
some of them were mobbed while here, and foi'bidden to partake 
of the sacrament at communion, at all events, their social ostra- 
cism drove them to Nova Scotia. 

The town was certainly making a great effort to preserve 
good order. A Committee of Safety had been previously ap- 
pointed, and about six weeks before the Battle of Lexington a 
second one was chosen, composed of "sober and discreet per- 
sons, who shall suppress mobs, quiet disturbances between 
neighbor and neighbor, and shall give assistance to the towns 
about us if they shall be asked." It was also voted that if any 
person should be found assisting any "mob])ish, tumultuous or 
riotous company, without first informing this committee and 
obtaining their approbation (which is not to be granted except 
in cases of extreme necessity), they should forfeit the assist- 
ance and protection of their neighbors, should it afterwards be 
needed, in their own defense, and they should never be consid- 
ered eligible to any office of trust in this town." 

It would appear from the accounts given by the old people 
of South Hadley, that the visits of the mob were for the purpose 
of insulting the Tories, rather than that of injuring their prop- 
erty, though in the excitement of the raid many things were 
done which upon sober second thought were greatly to be re- 
gretted. To the mobbings were brought horns, drums, pewter 
pans, anji:hing that would make a jangle of discordant notes. 
But the chief musical instrument was termed a horse-fiddle. It 
was prepared by stringing across the top of an empty wooden 
box hempen cords covered with rosin. A bow was prepared in a 
similar manner, and the harsh grating of one upon the other, as 
it was played by its two jjerformers, caused so horril^le a soimd 
that it defies description. After the din had been kept up for 
some hours, usually till about midnight, the rioters dispersed. 
There were occasions upon which the owner of the house came 
out with a club and drove them off, but these were rare. 



SOUTH HADLEY IN THE REVOLUTION 145 

These bitter animosities had brought dissensions into neigh- 
borhoods, and disunion into families. 

Poor old Jonathan Seldenl Next to our six pioneers, be 
had been one of the very earliest settlers south of Mt. Holyoke. 
He had been taught to reverence "Our Lord the King," as sec- 
ond only to Deity, and disobedience to his commands was in the 
eyes of Selden a sin. He was so pronounced in his opinions 
that six months after our first volunteers started for the army 
he was lodged in Northampton jail, where he died nearly eight 
months later. He must have inculcated in his children a love of 
country, for his son and namesake enlisted and fought as a 
soldier in the Eevolutionary War. 

A very common method of punishing Tories was by con- 
fining them to their own farms, which they were never per- 
mitted to leave except in order to attend church service and 
funerals. Upon these occasions they were forbidden to have 
any conversation with others, either before or after the exer- 
cises. This proceeding sometimes bore bitter fruit in after 
years. Several of our leading citizens still tell the story of their 
ancestor, Mr. Consider T. , whose unjust treatment dark- 
ened his whole life. He was a devoted member of the Church 
of England, and came to this country simply for commercial 
reasons. He settled in Connecticut, purchasing a large farm. 
Believing as he did that the King was the head of the Estab- 
lished Church, rebellion seemed to him like the most wicked 
of conflicts. He having expressed this opinion, the selectmen 
ordered him not to pass the boundaries of his own land under 
pain of imprisonment in the county jail. Fifteen months later 
they released him from restraint, but he refused their offer in 
these words: "I am, and always was, a sincere friend of Amer- 
ica, but if I had the same opinion of the United States that I 
have of this town, I should think it my duty to do my utmost to 
have them subdued. * * * x would further tell you I re- 
tain the same principles that I had four years ago, don't mean 
to hurt any man, and am content to remain in my own business, 
and happy in not seeing the faces of my implacable enemies. 
Therefore, please so use your endeavors that I may remain 



146 IX OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

happy as I now am, and you will oblige your old friend — Con- 
sider T." He lived nearly forty years after this, but never went 
beyond the boundaries of his own farm. 

During the night which preceded Wednesday, April 19, 
1775, the tocsin of war was sounded upon all the church bells 
from Boston to Lexington, and the deep-toned cannon confirmed 
the alarm. No sooner did Charleston catch the warning gleam 
of the lantern in the belfry of the Old North Church, than 
mounted horsemen were sent in hot haste to warn the country. 
The messenger despatched to Western Massachusetts directed 
the people of Belchertown to send a courier to Granby and 
South Hadley, while he continued his journey to Amherst, Had- 
ley and Northampton. 

We can picture to ourselves the best rider and most ardent 
patriot of Cold Spring traversing the rough track, called the 
Pichawamache Eoad, shouting to the farmer in his field, and the 
housewife standing in her kitchen door, "To arms! to arms!" 
How it must have gladdened his heart when the athletic John 
Lane responded, "I will go." 

Down the steep side of Cold Hill, now changed and leveled 
beyond recognition, he passed at its base the house of Deacon 
David Nash. Here was another volunteer, and a little beyond, 
John Marshall's heart warmed to the cry. 

Arriving at the Center, the messenger went at once to the 
Woodbridge parsonage. The news was quickly made known by 
the beating of drums and the firing of guns, the former giving 
that long, loud roll that told the minute men it was a call for 
volunteers. South Hadley had not been caught napping. 

The town had voted during the previous year that they were 
willing to ' ' raise and pay men for the army. ' ' They had ordered 
every man to keep weapons and ammimition in his house. Car- 
tridge boxes had been purchased and were now held in stock. 
The militia had been exercised on training days, but the minute 
men had met for an extra half daj^ in every week, in order to 
learn the art of war, each one of them being paid for his time. 
Now, under the alert leadership of Colonel Ruggles Woodbridge, 
provision enough to last three days was hastily prepared, the 



SOUTH HADLEY IN THE REVOLUTION 147 

guns put in order, and on the following day, Thursday, over a 
hundred men from Belchertown, Granby and South Hadley 
set forth on their march to Lexington. 

Among the volunteers from this town was Peter Pender- 
grass, a legacy left to us by the British army after the close of 
the last French and Indian War. He had come to our town, 
married a young woman named Abial, a church member, and 
they, with their only son, James, lived in a tiny dwelling on the 
site now occupied by the house of W. H. Jewett, on Iladlej' street. 
Life had not gone well with him, and a kind deacon who had 
moved from here to Granby sheltered him and his family for a 
year. The events of April 19 awoke the old war fever, and in- 
stead of turning back with the others, when a messenger met 
them with the news that they were no longer needed, he pro- 
ceeded to Cambridge with Captain Moses Montague and Colonel 
Woodbridge, accompanied also by two or three of our minute 
men. Reaching Cambridge, he found a fine, large house, whose 
Tory owner had fled to the British camp. Here he established 
himself in luxurious quarters, little dreaming that twenty-five 
years later he would be set up at vendue as a town pauper and 
struck off to one of our good deacons at fifty cents per week. 

Before the battle of Bunker Hill, Colonel Woodbridge and 
Peter had joined the camp in Roxbury. A part of their regi- 
ment fought in that memorable conflict, but though they could 
see the smoke and hear the cannon they were, themselves, too 
far away to take part in the engagement. 

During the following November, word was sent here that 
the poor of Boston were suffering for lack of food and clothing. 
A town meeting was called and a committee appointed to col- 
lect donations. A requisition for blankets to be used in the 
army also met with quick response. The Whigs gave willingly, 
and often more than they could well afford to spare. If a Tory 
refused to produce his hidden store of new blankets this com- 
mittee straightway helped themselves to those already in use. 

In our northern army the long marches had so worn out both 
shoes and stockings that the footsteps of our men left their 
crimson imprint upon the Canadian ice and snow, and mes- 



148 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

sengers were despatched to Massachusetts in order to make 
known their imperative need. Letters could not be used to 
diffuse information, since at this time each state had on an 
average but six postoffices in its whole area. The only place 
where the scattered population could easily be reached was at 
the meeting house, and the Sunday service was often interrupted 
by the coming of a horseman, charged with the duty of trans- 
mitting intelligence. 

It was the custom of Eev. Mr. Woodbridge on every Sabbath 
morning to give a summary of the latest news from the army. 
Springfield was our recruiting station, and whoever went there 
on business was expected to call at the minister's house on his 
return and repeat all that he had learned regarding the progress 
of the war. 

In front of the wooden desk, which at that time served as a 
pulpit, sat Deacon Daniel Moody and Deacon David Nash, their 
pew being on a raised platform, facing the congregation. It was 
their duty, in case the minister had "exchanged," to introduce 
the new preacher to the audience, and they had also been ap- 
pointed to receive on every Lord's Day gifts for the soldiers. 

When the clank of a horseman was heard without, Mr. Wood- 
bridge paused in his sermon and at the entrance of the messen- 
ger said, with a courtly bow, "Brother, if you have any message 
for my people, say on." And when the pitiful story had been 
told, we may well believe that for days to come spinning wheels 
hummed, and knitting needles clicked in answer to this appeal. 

In one of the towns reached by a courier during the morning 
sermon, all the women, with the consent of the minister, re- 
mained at home that afternoon in order to spin and knit for the 
suffering men at St. Johns. "Mercy is better than sacrifice," 
said the pastor, in explanation of his act. 

Nor were the men less patriotic. After the close of the war 
it was said that, excepting the ministers, there was hardly an 
able-bodied man in either Granby or Soiath Hadley who had 
not served in the army. This had been made possible by a ro- 
tation in enlistment. No sooner had a soldier started for camp 
than his neighbors assumed the responsibility of caring for his 



SOUTH HADLEY IN THE REVOLUTION 149 

farm. In case no son was old enough to milk and "fodder," it 
was expected that the women of the household would attend to 
those duties. But at planting time, the volunteer's land must 
be ploughed for him before any other, and when his grass was 
ready for the scythe, a mowing bee was appointed, for his hay- 
ing must be done before the rest began theirs. Later on the 
town voted that they would provide "For those women and 
their families whose husbands were in the continental army." 

In order that those who were dependent upon the kindness 
of others should be as evenly distributed as possible throughout 
the town, when a draft of seven men was called for. South Had- 
ley was divided into seven districts, and one man was chosen by 
lot from each district. 

The first person south of the mountain who sacrificed his 
life to the cause of liberty was Lieut. Eleazer Nash. He lived 
in Moody Corner, a few rods east of the Granby line, and though 
he was already in his fifty-sixth year, enlisted at the call of Lex- 
ington and set off the next morning. He may have taken a 
chill from sleeping on the damp ground, for he returned with a 
hard cold ; inflammation of the lungs set in, and within a month 
he had passed away. There must have been some bitter self- 
reproach among those overzealous Whigs who had, six weeks 
before, tried to bring disgrace upon his name. Some of the 
towns about us had been building bonfires, and feeding the flames 
with the military commissions issued by Governor Hutchison 
and General Gage some years before. Captain William Eastman, 
Lieutenant Eleazer Nash and Ensign Experience Smith do not 
appear to have shared in the wild excitement that dominated this 
section, and a town meeting was called on March 6, 1775, to con- 
sider their cases. At this time Lieutenant Nash, being asked to 
speak, replied, in answer to their questions, "I have no desire, 
intention, or design to act from any authority by virtue of my 
commission, and further I never will." "Ensign Smith de- 
clared that he acquiesced in the above declaration made by Lieu- 
tenant Nash." Captain William Eastman said that he "Would 
never exercise anv authoritv of his commission imtil such time 



150 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

as the controversy subsisting between Great Britain and the 
colonies was settled." 

For some unknown reason these answers were not con- 
sidered satisfactory, but the matter seemed to have been 
dropped. Lieutenant Nash died, Ensign Smith left town, and 
Deacon William Eastman, who forty years before was the first 
clerk of our South Hadley church, was mobbed and called an 
enemy of his country. But he moved serenely on in the even 
tenor of his way, and a few years later Grranby, recognizing his 
sound judgment, honesty of purpose and sincere patriotism, 
sent him as her delegate to assist in formulating our state con- 
stitution. 

An entry in the records of Eev. Joel Hayes, our third minis- 
ter, states that on June 8, 1786, he married Samuel White and 
Eunice Eastman. There was a curious romance connected with 
this item. A brother of Deacon William Eastman, called the 
squire, lived at Granby Five Corners, in the house now occupied 
by Henry Moody. Samuel White, then a youth of fifteen, called 
at the house one day, when Squire Eastman said, jocosely, 
* ' Samuel, if you will go to the war and return all right you may 
marry any one of my daughters. " We quote the sequel. "Samuel 
White was only fifteen years of age when he enlisted, and being 
under the regulation height, was obliged to stand on tiptoe when 
measured at the mustering in. The father of the young patriot 
also enlisted with him. The first winter of the campaign had not 
passed when the elder White froze both his feet, and was obliged 
to return home, where his wounds failed to respond to treat- 
ment, and he died. The son went through the service without 
injury, and when the war cry of 1812 soimded he was among 
the first to respond, raising a company of which he was made 
captain. ' ' 

Previous to the Declaration of Independence there had been 
in the vicinity of Springfield what the old people called a "Nest 
of Tories." Their secret headquarters were said to have been 
in West Springfield. If any continental officer of rank came 
home on a furlough his house was liable to be suddenly raided by 
men who sought his capture. 



SOUTH HADLEY IN THE REVOLUTION lol 

At West Parish Four Corners, in Granby, a little to the 
southeast, rises an elevation of land called Phin's Hill. At the 
time of the Stamp Act, Phineas, son of our pioneer, Chileab 
Smith, was living on the present Woodbridge street in South 
Hadley. Before 1775 he had built a house upon and removed to 
the eminence, named in his honor. He was one of those who 
answered "present" to the call of Lexington, and his son David, 
afterwards Major Smith, enlisted on his eighteenth birthday. 
The widow of the latter died in South Hadley in June, 1850, and 
the following incidents were related to the author by her. When 
Captain Phineas Smith joined the army in 1776 he took with him 
a young and very strong horse. When a colt it had always been 
allowed, once every day, to walk up the stone steps and enter 
the kitchen door in order to eat the piece of rye bread which 
was always saved for it. One day, Captain Phineas having been 
granted a short furlough, set out for home. Passing through 
West Springfield his horse was possibly recognized by the tories, 
and a party of them started in pursuit. Before he had been at 
home a scant half hour his wife, chancing to pass the open win- 
dow of the "keeping room," saw them just fastening their 
horses under a large cherry tree that stood close by. Part of 
the tories went to the rear of the house in order to watch that 
side, while the others went to the front door, wliich was, fortu- 
nately, barred. They pounded it loudly with their fists, crWng 
out, "Open in the name of the King! Open in the name of the 
King!" While his wife unbarred the door Captain Phineas 
leaped from the window and, jumping upon one of their horses, 
climbed to the top of the cherry tree, whose dense foliage 
screened him from any but the closest observation. The tories 
searched the house from garret to cellar ; they pulled the feather 
beds to the floor and trampled upon them as they thrust their 
swords into the ticks of the straw beds, and, in the language of 
Mrs. Smith, ' ' They even looked in the bureau drawers. ' ' After 
their departure Captain Smith descended from the tree, and as 
soon as dusk had fallen, mounted his horse and returned to 
camp, for he had lieard them say, "He has probably stopped 
somewhere on the way ; we will come again after dark. ' ' 



152 IN OLD SOUTH EADLEY 

Later on his wife, looking one day from a window, saw in 
the distance a black speck which appeared to be followed by a 
dark spot, the latter constantly gaining upon the former. Some 
intuition told her that it was her husband upon a tired horse, 
pursued by tories upon fresh ones. She hastily collected the 
guns, pushed the heavy oak shutters across the windows, then, 
with a sudden inspiration, ran to the kitchen door and, taking 
off her apron, shook it frantically. They were now all ascend- 
ing the steep hill, and almost abreast of one another. By some 
subtle telepathy her husband caught at her idea and waved his 
hand reassuringly. Entering the dooryard together, two tories 
slipped from their horses ready to grasp the Captain as he 
alighted, but to their surprise he rode his horse straight up the 
steps into the kitchen, whose door clanged together an instant 
after. The house was now like a little fort and the baffled tories, 
fearing that the firing of guns would alarm the neighborhood, 
decided that "Discretion was the better part of valor," and 
speedily withdrew. 

This was about the time when the Declaration of Independ- 
ence was signed, and that event caused many of the tories to 
seek other homes for themselves upon English soil. 

Early in the year Rev. Mr. Woodbridge had read from the 
pulpit a proclamation sent by the General Court at Boston, 
which asserted that we owed no obedience to Parliament nor to 
the royal governors, who had abrogated our charter, but it en- 
treated all officers, from judge to tithing-man, to suppress all 
disorders and immoralities, and directed the congregations to be 
faithful in their attendance at divine service. This proclama- 
tion omitted the customary "God save the King," and substi- 
tuted "God save the people." It was also read at our annual 
town meeting. 

A second proclamation called for a meeting to be held for 
the sake of obtaining our "Concurrence in declaring the Inde- 
pendence of the Colonies." This was called for June 20, 1776, 
and South Hadley at that time "voted in the affirmative by a 
great majority." Five days later their sincerity was put to the 
test, for an order came from the General Court that twelve 



SOUTH HADLEY IN THE REVOLUTION 153 

men should go from our town to reinforce the troops in Canada, 
and each man must carry with him provisions for the journey, a 
blanket, and other accouterments. There were at this time about 
eighty families living here, and before the close of the war each 
had, upon an average, sent two of its members into the army. 

During the succeeding year the call for volunteers grew 
more and more imperative, but the response came promptly and 
cheerfully. One of these recruits was Josiah Draper, our Fall 
Woods schoolmaster, to whom reference has been made in pre- 
ceding chapters. He was in the habit of keeping a daily journal 
of his doings, and this diary now enjoys the rare distinction 
of being, so far as is known, the only one still in existence, that 
was kept by a private of the Revolutionary Army. A messenger 
had come asking for men to aid in opposing the march of Bur- 
gojTie, and if possible to attack his army in the rear. For this 
service, Josiah Drajjer and others in the town volunteered. Some 
extracts here and there from his journal may prove to be of 
interest ; and though his orthography might have made poor old 
Lindley Murray blush for him, yet he was for those times an 
unusually clever man. 

"Sept. 12, 1777. Set out from South Hadley at two o'clock, 
the day of enlistment. Stayed over night at S. Judds." "Sept. 
13. Had a breakfast of coffee, rost pig, punkin pie, cheese, and 
butter. Sold my Snuff Bottel." "Sept. 19. Paid a man six 
shillings for carrying my pack to Ruperts. " "Sept. 20. Yester- 
day wrote a letter to send home. Sent it to-day. Had a fine 
chicken stew, eat hearty. The old wolf (Burgoyne) is gone." 

Sept. 26, he reached Ticonderoga and was put upon guard 
duty, the countersign being 'America.' 

"Oct. 18. I wrote a letter to Captain Clark. One of ye 
Deserters Court-Marsheled. " "Oct. 19. The man was whipt, 
belongs to Col. Brewers Regiment, thirty lashes for Desertion." 
"Sunday, Oct. 20. Mr. Throop preached from 'What is Man?' " 

"Nov. 26. Dismissed to open my school. Sold my Brass 
Buckles for five shillings. Set out for Home." 

He walked one hundred and fifty-six miles in eight days on 
his wav back. 



154 I^ OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

' ' Dec. 4. Got Home. Sold my quart tin cup for fifty cents, 
which was just half what it cost me. The Place I left the Bible 
Class was the Psalter Class, Psalm 78:26." 

The 28th verse chanced to be, "And he let it fall in the 
midst of their camp." 

When Josiah Draper "Reckoned with my book," he found 
that he had not only spent up all his wages, but a good deal more, 
owing, perhaps, to such entries as these: 

"Wednesday, October 23. Bought Mutton taller. 

"Bought sugar and Rum. Bought a barrel of Beer. 

"Feel very weak and poor. Bought a gill of Brandy at 
night." 

But he was a true patriot, for only a week after his return 
he was taking his savings of former years in order to equip three 
more of our townsmen for the army, one of whom lived in Pearl 
City. 

A few weeks before Josiah Draper's enlistment there had 
been an emergency call from Vermont for immediate help. It 
was known as the Call of Bennington. Dr. A. J. Miller, who 
helped to throw the tea overboard, was now a surgeon in the 
army. His brother, Leonard, the ancestor of Mrs. C. A. Gridley, 
had enlisted during the preceding March, and was now stationed 
near the point of danger. Their younger brother, Joseph, father 
of the late Mr. Daniel Miller (more familiarly known to the old 
residents of South Hadley as "Uncle Daniel"), was very desi- 
rous of joining the rescue party. He had no suit of clothes be- 
fitting such a journey, through tangled woods and thorny 
swamps. Only two days had been allowed the recruits for 
preparation, and something must be done. Something ivas 
done, for two sheep, one black and the other white, were hastily 
led into the water and their fleeces washed. The shearing of the 
pair was soon completed ; then everyone, even the children, was 
set to work picking the wool apart, beating it with sticks, and 
tossing it into the air. The older women, their hands thor- 
oughly greased, mixed the white and black wool together in 
order to make the "pepper and salt" cloth, which was, at that 
era, in universal use. They had only hand cards with which to 



SOUTH HADLEY IX THE REVOLUTIOX 155 

form it into rolls, and the women took turns during the first 
night in sitting up to prepare it for spinning. Next morning 
these rolls were twisted and drawn out on the spinning wheel 
until fine enough to be called yarn. It was then wound on a 
spindle and quilled. Twelve hours were spent in weaving the 
five yards of cloth which were needed. The second night and 
the next morning were fully occupied in cutting out and making, 
by hand, the coat and knee breeches which composed the suit. 

The news of Burgoyne's surrender was received at Hadley 
on Sunday, October 20, 1777, and the good tidings wei-e doubt- 
less sent at once to the assembled congregations at South Hadley 
and Granby. The joy must have been great indeed, for Colonel 
Woodbridge and his men had been in Ticonderoga at the time 
of its evacuation, and there were many others from these two 
towns still at the front. 

One of the soldiers present on the occasion of Burgoyne's 
surrender never forgot the scene. A grandson and namesake of 
our pioneer, William Montague, had been apprenticed to Lieu- 
tenant Eeuben Judd, of South Hadley, in order to learn the 
carpenter's trade. 

During the summer of 1777 Lieutenant Judd was drafted to 
joint the northern army. He had already seen as much of mili- 
tary service as he desired, and young Montague offered to go 
as his substitute. His parents at first objected, but Colonel 
Woodbridge obtained their consent by taking the youth as a 
kind of aide-de-camp, under his own personal care. At the 
time when Burgojme delivered up his sword to General Gates, 
William Montague, being at that hour off duty, established him- 
self upon a gate post whence he could witness the ceremony. 
Burgoyne's sword, which was immediately returned to him, is 
now in Hadley, he having presented it to Colonel Porter on his 
way home. 

After the American victory at Bennington, finding that 
they possessed no adequate means of keeping the captured Hes- 
sians confined in that place, numbers of them were sent to this 
and neighboring towns to be "farmed out among the inliabitants, 
who had the use of them in return for furnishing board, lodging 



156 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

and safe keeping." Some of them found such pleasant homes 
and were so happy that when an opportunity was given them of 
returning to the Fatherland they chose to remain. Others were 
less contented; the records in Boston show that one of these 
who had been located in our town, having heard that the British 
had captured an American soldier, wrote a letter asking to be 
exchanged for the new prisoner. Had he but known it, there 
were still tories in West Springfield, who would have given him 
shelter and concealment could he have escaped, but such pre- 
cautions were taken, and their treatment was so kind that few 
desired to leave this region. 

While these events were taking place the officials of our 
town had not been idle, and on February 11, 1777, a meeting of 
the selectmen was held at the house of Captain Moses Montague, 
"to prevent monopoly and high prices." 

Horses were, at that time, in greater demand than ever be- 
fore. There were frequent journeys to Springfield, partly in 
order to obtain the latest news, and partly to carry the generous 
contributions which were sent to the soldiers, — stockings and 
shoes, clothing and food. We find one entry in our town records 
— "Voted to provide 3460 waite of Beef for the Continental 
Army;" and three months later, — "Voted to have by Feb. 6, 
8000 pounds of Beef, our quota for the army." 

Then, too, Springfield was the mustering point for Central 
and Western Massachusetts; Colonel Woodbridge was the 
muster master for that section, and Major Josiah White and 
other leading citizens of South Hadley assisted him. In addition 
to this, some who could not go to the war themselves lent their 
horses to be used in the army. Taking all these things into con- 
sideration, our Town-fathers said, "The price of horse travel 
shall be two and one-fourth pence a mile." 

Men's long stockings, knit from the best of wool, could be 
charged for at the rate of six shillings "a pare," but common 
shoes must be sold for eight shillings. Cheese was to be six- 
pence and butter eight pence per pound, while rum was listed at 
nine shillings a gallon. A mug of the best flip was to be sold 
for a shilling, but for a "good meal of vittles" our innkeepers 



SOUTH HAULEY IX THE REVOLUTION 157 

could charge only ten pence, and lodging must not exceed three 
pence per night. 

The most important matter left to the decision of this meet- 
ing was in regard to the amount of wages which should be paid 
for labor, especially during haying and harvesting. If the rate 
were fixed at too high a figure then South Hadley might be 
complained of at the General Court by the surrounding towns. 
If it were too low, help would be hard to obtain. In the early 
days strikes and labor troubles were a thing unknown, for the 
state, taking matters into its own hands, had empowered town 
officials to "impress men for mowing, reaping of corn, and in- 
ning thereof." This law directed the husbandman who needed 
more help during the ingathering of crops, to request the con- 
stable to procure it for him. The latter was told to go to the 
"artificers and handy craftsmen" and order them to take their 
place in the field, "unless necessarily attending to like business 
of their own." The shoemaker who refused to lay down his 
last, or the carpenter who continued the use of hammer and 
plane, and the weaver who remained at his loom, disregarding 
such a summons, must each pay double the day's wages to the 
poor of the town, and if the constable forgot or neglected to 
notify the artisans, then he must himself pay the forfeit in their 
place. 

The final decision of our selectmen was to double the wage 
rate established by the legislature of a century before, and give 
the farm laborer three shillings a day. 

So rapidly did the paper currency depreciate that two years 
later it was voted, in South Hadley, "Town bills shall be doubled 
twenty-four times for payment." The same year, when a call 
came for six months' men, our town offered a bounty for en- 
listment. One thousand dollars in continental bills, or twenty 
silver dollars at the close of the service. Most of the volunteers 
wisely chose the latter alternative. 

Few people can rightly estimate the cost of our independ- 
ence. Aside from the sufferings of the wounded, who could 
command so little medical skill for the alleviation of pain ; aside 
from the ever-present loneliness of the home that had been made 



158 IX OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

desolate by the hand of death, there were other troubles to be 
encountered. The laws which permitted imprisonment for debt 
were still in force. Despite the kindness of neighbors, there 
were some soldiers in this region who felt compelled to mortgage 
their farms in order to support their families during their long 
absences at the front. At the close of the war they received 
pajTnent in continental bills, which became almost valueless, so 
that they were obliged to sell their farms and begin life anew. 

This was not the case with Deacon David Nash, who had 
slaves enough to till his land when he was absent. And David 
Mitchell, who lived on the old Hyde place, sent his slave CiEsar 
into service for the country, while himself remaining here in 
order to promote the work of collecting food and clothing for 
the army. Caesar enlisted early in the war, at a time when the 
soldiers were still paid in silver. He saved his wages and pur- 
chased his own freedom, and thereafter it is doubtful whether 
a prouder man than he ever entered our meeting house. His 
very name, Caesar Cambridge, was classical, though his com- 
rades from South Hadley and Granby, Peter Pendergras, Selor 
Sword, Lorin Larkin and Jonas Jackson, could boast that theirs 
were no less alliterative. 

Barry, in his History of Massachusetts, states that the 
grievance which induced South Hadley to join in the Revolution 
was the refusal of Great Britain to permit the erection of slitting 
mills in this country. So many buildings were constantly going 
up that there was frequently a shortage of hand-made nails, and 
these mills were able to convert iron bars into nail rods. During 
the first half of the last century old people used to describe the 
process of nail making as they had seen it done in our town. 

On a cold winter's evening, when plenty of wood had been 
heaped upon the flames in the big, old fireplace, the boys took 
turns in holding the long nail rod in the coals till the end was red 
hot. Then the father, with a stout hammer and many quick 
blows, shaped this end into a point. Taking his chisel, he cut off 
a piece of the rod, a little longer than the steel mold, or bore, as 
it was called, into which he forced the bit of hot iron. Upon the 
part which projected beyond the mold he struck heavily until 



SOUTH HADLEY IX THE REVOLUTION" 159 

lie had flattened it into a head. When sufficiently cooled, the 
nail was withdrawn from the mold, which could then be used over 
again. 

Some families became very expert at casting bullets, though 
the melted lead oftentimes came from the sacrifice of their 
cherished pewter. There was a call for ammunition at home as 
well as abroad, for the very animals in the forest seemed to 
know by intuition the defenseless state of many homes, and we 
read in an old diary, kept by one of our ancestors, that the wild 
hogs, with which the woods were filled, "Infested my garden." 
Another entry runs thus — "To-day a wolf killed a young goat 
for me in the pasture east of the house." The owner, hearing 
the outcry, came with a loaded gun, but the wolf fled to a swamp, 
where he concealed himself. The neighboring men were called 
together, but Sir Lupus had escaped, and the record ends with — 
"Drove the swamp and nothing got." 

It will be no matter of surprise that the pastures and gar- 
dens south of Mt. ITolyoke were less carefully guarded when we 
remember that Granby and South Hadley together sent two 
hundred and fifty fearless and faithful soldiers into the army. 
Since they were all of them born previous to 1768, at which time 
the East Parish was set otT as a separate town. South Hadley 
may be forgiven for claiming their nativity as something of 
which it might justly be proud. A part of these volunteers were 
at West Point at the time when Washington first learned of the 
treachery of Benedict Arnold. It was a season of deep discour- 
agement throughout the country. The regiment to which these 
men belonged had served its time and was waiting to be dis- 
charged. The commander-in-chief desired to retain them longer, 
but they were naturally impatient to return home. Levi Taylor, 
who had enlisted at the age of sixteen, was among them. Often 
in later years did he repeat to the wondering children the story 
of what followed this appeal — General Washington told them of 
his difficulties, and of the dangers that threatened their common 
cause, and asked them if, as a personal favor to himself, they 
would consent to stay a little longer. "Let every man who will 
promise me to remain a month longer poise his gun!" said the 



160 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

commander. And the old soldier's voice rang out triumphantly 
on his closing sentence — "And every man of us pized his piece." 

Fifty years after the Revolution one of these old soldiers 
remarked that he had seen as hard fighting in the streets of 
South Hadley between whigs and tories, as any he had wit- 
nessed while in camp. Stones and brickbats, however, though 
dangerous missiles, did not, so far as we know, inflict any mortal 
wounds. As time went on toryism disappeared from the town. 
Its leaders selling their farms, or leaving them to be confiscated, 
retired to other lands on a pension from the King. Some who 
had been, perhaps, unjustly suspected of being British sympa- 
thizers, removed to neighboring states. One family of Smiths 
emigrated to Vermont. After the battle of Bennington they 
opened their house to our wounded soldiers, whom they nursed 
tenderly back into health. 

A very pretty story might be written concerning the South 
Hadley man who was consigned by the surgeon to the care of a 
family named Smith, and found to their mutual surprise that he 
was in the hands of his old neighbors. 

Among the many incidents of the Revolution handed down 
to us by our forefathers is the story of Mrs. Philips, the great- 
grandmother of Granby's historian, A. W. Fisk. A party of 
Revolutionary soldiers, recently discharged from service, and 
returning to Chesterfield, New Hampshire, lost their way in 
the woods and wandered for days, having only a few mouthfuls 
of food to be shared between them. When at last they reached 
the house of Mrs. Philips they were in a starving condition, and 
begged piteously for something to eat. "If you will promise to 
follow my directions implicitly, I will feed you," answered the 
astute matron, and to this they agreed. A large kettle, filled 
with hot water, was swinging from the crane in the big fireplace. 
She stirred in Indian meal until it had attained the right con- 
sistency for gruel and gave each of them a cupful to drink. 
They clamored eagerly for more. "No," she said firmly. "You 
promised to obey me, you must wait." Later on they had an- 
other cupful. Little by little she nourished them till they were 



SOUTH HADLEY IN THE REVOLUTION 161 

able to partake of solid food, and the verdict of the doctor was 
that her resolution and good sense had saved their lives. 

Owing to the limits of the present chapter, many interesting 
details in regard to the war must be omitted. We know in brief 
that whenever our army met with defeat a day of fasting and 
prayer was appointed by our minister, and neighboring pastors 
often preached for him upon these occasions. But when a vic- 
tory occurred all was joy and gladness. We learn from the old 
orderly books that a great triumph was heralded by remitting 
the punishment of those who had been sentenced to the whipping 
post, and a gill of rum was allowed to every soldier in honor of 
the event. Our minister always appointed a day of special 
thanksgiving, and bonfires were lighted to express the universal 
joy. 

A brother of one of our deacons, who lived north of Mt. 
Holyoke, one day met two youths rolling an empty tar barrel 
before them. "Whither away, boys!" he asked. They answered 
him respectfully, "We are going to the moimtain, sir, to cele- 
brate the victory of which we have just heard." "And is that 
the way to praise God for his goodness? Back to yonder build- 
ing," pointing to the meeting house, "and let us there thank God 
as we ought." So saying he drove the reluctant youths before 
him, and kneeling in the sacred edifice, with a boy upon either 
side of him, made a long prayer. 

Soldiers returning from camp brought back to us many new 
songs, which were soon heard in both kitchen and field, and even 
upon the very steps of the sanctuary. One of the favorites, sung 
to the tune of Chester, ran thus : 

"Let tyrants shake their iron rod, 
And slavery clank her galling chains; 
We'll fear them not; we'll trust in God, 
New England's God forever reigns. 
The foe comes on with haughty stride, 
Our troops advance with martial noise ; 
Their veterans flee before our arms. 
And generals yield to beardless boys. ' ' 



162 IN OLD SOUTH HA]:)LEY 

The surrender of Cornwallis on October 19. 1781, must have 
seemed a complete fulfillment of this prophecy. The news of that 
event did not reach South Hadley until the following December, 
at which time the Granby minister promptly appointed a day of 
thanksgiving. We find by old records that the pastors of Belch- 
ertown and Granby always acted in unison with Mr. Woodbridge 
in such matters, so we must have had a service of praise. The 
Granby minister is said to have preached from the text, "Thou 
has done great things for us, whereof we are glad." 

Among the ensigns of Colonel Woodbridge 's regiment was 
a person of fine appearance and pleasing address, who fought in 
the battle of Bunker Hill. This man was Daniel Shays, the 
leader and instigator of the insurrection called Shay's Rebellion. 
The history of this uprising is too familiar to need repetition; 
but the flight of his soldiers from Springfield to Amherst gave 
to many of our townsmen a night of terror. 

On the 27th of January, 1787, Jonathan Burnett, a veteran 
of the Revolutionary War, was absent from home. He lived on 
College street, in the house now owned by G. F. Canney. It was 
a very cold day, and the snow lay thick upon the ground. As 
the darkness deepened his children gathered before the open 
fire. Strange sounds were heard in the street, and before the 
little one in the trundle bed was sound asleep their uncle hastily 
entered the house. He briefly informed them that Shay's men 
had seized two barrels of rum in the tavern a little south of 
them and were already so intoxicated that they were breaking 
windows, furniture, and anything that came in their way. He 
begged the mother to hide herself and the children without delay. 
A stairway led from the kitchen to a large cellar where the cider 
barrels were kept. Adjoining this, but separated from it by a 
thick wall, was a small excavation known as the root cellar, 
access to which could be obtained from the southeast front room, 
through a small recess that might easily be mistaken for a cup- 
board. Hardly were the family concealed in the root cellar 
when the troopers raided the house. They went from room to 
room, punctuating their march with frequent libations, oaths and 



SOUTH HADLEY IX THE EEVOLUTION 163 

empty boasts of what they would do in the future. The fright- 
ened children did not utter a sound, and remained undiscovered. 

Meanwhile, one of their officers outside the house shot a 
comrade by mistake, supposing him to be one of their pursuers. 
This fact, however, did not stop the rioting. Captain Noah 
Goodman, who lived in the house next to Judson Hall, was a 
prominent government official. He had been for years a mem- 
ber of the legislature, and was one of the committee who formu- 
lated our state constitution. His house was attacked and plun- 
dered, also that of Colonel Woodbridge, and many others. 

Tradition tells us that some of our men gathered at the par- 
sonage, but were too few in number to go out and engage in 
battle. At the turn of the road, where the Amherst highway 
leaves Woodbridge street, a majority of Shays' men started 
toward the Notch. A few kept on through Pearl City, and one 
of the latter stopped at the old "Heman White place," for 
warmth and rest. Upon departing he handed the host his horse- 
pistol with the words, * ' Keep this till I call for it. ' ' It has never 
been reclaimed. 

Deacon Daniel Moody was ill that night, and the fire had not 
been banked as usual. Some of Shays' followers, seeing the 
ruddy glow upon the window pane, knocked at the door. A 
servant girl admitted them to the kitchen, where the deacon 
was sleeping upon one of the rude folding beds of that day. 
The loud voices of the men awoke him. Starting up in indignant 
surprise, he called out, "How came those villains in my house? 
Begone instantly, every one of you." A drunken soldier ad- 
vanced with his weapons, ready to kill the doughty deacon, but 
the servant girl interposed. "La, now!" she said, soothingl.v, 
"don't mind him. He is only a doited old man, and not worth 
noticing. ' ' 

The insurrection found but few adherents in this immediate 
vicinity. When its discomfited volunteers returned, those of 
them who were church members found themselves debarred from 
partaking of the bread and wine at communion. But later, after 
they had taken anew the oath of allegiance, and had avowed their 



164 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

penitence, they were again received into fellowship with the 
church. 

Upon each recurring Fourth of July we are reminded of the 
war which gave us independence. It was not until 1783 that this 
day became a national holiday. Previous to that year, March 
5 had been observed in commemoration of the Boston massacre. 
But after peace had been established, it was thought best to 
adojjt in its place the Fourth of July as the date for annual cele- 
bration. In the beginning the day was filled, not simply with 
noisy demonstrations, but with sermons, orations, and patriotic 
songs, which were followed by an ample collation for the whole 
town. It was intended to recall to everyone's memory the brave 
deeds and heroic suffering of our soldiers. 

The price paid for our independence cannot be measured 
by the standards of to-day. The nameless graves on distant bat- 
tlefields, and the sacred dust that beneath the bronze marker 
reposes in our old-fashioned churchyards, prove the truth of the 
poet's description — • 

"They left the plough share in the mould, 
Their flocks and herds without a fold. 
The sickle in the unshorn grain. 
The corn, half garnered, on the plain 
And mustered in their simple dress. 
For wrongs to seek a stern redress. 
To right those wrongs, come weal, come woe, 
To perish or o'ercome the foe." 




TTTE OROVK 



CHAPTER NINE 

SOUTH HADLEY AFTER THE BEVOLUTION 

IN 1800 female missionary societies were first instituted in 
Boston. Later, spinning, weaving, and knitting societies 

were formed for the purpose of sending the Gospel to the 
heathen, and cent societies and mite societies sprang up as if by 
magic. 

In those days it was customary for the women to retain 
the money received from the sale of eggs and butter, with 
which they were expected to defray their own personal expenses, 
including their contributions toward benevolent objects. The 
story of their introduction here may be learned from the follow- 
ing extracts, taken from the letters written by one of our old 
residents : 

"South Hadley, September 27, 1803. I have lately seen a 
plan of a Female Charitable Association, for the purchase and 
distribution of the Bible and other good books among the needy 
inhabitants at the West. This plan is transmitted to the minis- 
ters' wives throughout the covmtry. In Longmeadow I hear 
that there are a hundred subscribers. I do not know the number 
in South Hadley." .... "We are attempting to form a so- 
ciety to assist the Cherokee Mission by furnishing clothing for 
the children in that school. Twenty-four have given their names 
as members, and there will probably be enough to make thirty, 
who come very cheerfully, and for conscience's sake. Some 
others will probably fall in reluctantly and for fashion's sake, 
and many will keep back for covetousness' sake. They will ask: 

" 'What constitutes a member of this society?' 

" 'Fifty cents annually, and the privilege of giving as much 
more as you choose.' 

"'What! Fifty cents every year ? ' 

" 'That constitutes a member, but I presume the ladies 
generally will esteem it a privilege to give more.' 



166 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

" 'What ! More than half a dollar every year? How much 
to the other societies?' 

" 'Fifty cents to the Cent Society, and twenty-five to the 
Dorcas.' 

" 'Fifty and fifty make a dollar, and twenty-five makes 7/6, 
seven and sixpence a year given away for nothing. And who 
knows what becomes ont? I don't spose a bit ont ever gits 
where they pretend to send it, and if it did I don't know as 
'twonld do any good. I have a large family of my own to sup- 
port and carnt do half as well by them as I wanter. ' ' ' 

From a subsequent letter by the same writer, we glean this 
account of our first Sabbath School : 

"South Hadley, August 2, 1819. 

"Our Sunday School flourishes; we have 120 scholars. "We 
use Gumming 's Catechism, with Psalms and Hymns and the 
Sacred Scriptures. I have a class of young ladies from sixteen 
to nineteen years old who were themselves teachers when the 
school commenced. 

"I generally select the lessons, and recommend it to them 
to read Scott or some other expositor, on the portion which they 
commit. They usually get fifty answers in Cummings, and from 
fifty to sixty verses of Scripture each week. Sister Harriet, E. 
Whitney, Mr. P. and E. White have classes, and many others. 
We think six enough for a class." 

The first superintendent was Deacon Josiah White, who 
was assisted by Mr. Joseph Strong. In 1826 to its other at- 
tractions was added a Sunday School Library. After the open- 
ing of Mt. Holyoke Seminary some of its most gifted members 
became teachers in our Sabbath School, two nieces of Mary 
Lyon being among the number. 

More than sixty years ago an infant class was started, with 
a membership of forty, and has ever since remained a marked 
feature of the school. 

Soon after 1830 Sunday School concerts began to be held. 
These were attended only by adults, and were observed as a 
season of prayer for the conversion of the pupils. About the 
middle of the century children were admitted to these concerts, 



SOUTH HADLEY AFTER THE EEVOLUTIOX 1G7 

and even allowed to join in the singing. After a few years the 
young were asked to recite verses from the Bible, and so little 
by little it became almost wholly a children's meeting. Its in- 
ception and continued success may have resulted in some meas- 
ure from Josiah Draper's Psalter Class, in which, as his diary 
shows, he felt a vital interest. 

Colonial laws permitted the enslavement of Indians taken 
captive in war. But, skilled as they were in woodcraft, it was 
almost impossible to prevent their escape. They were accord- 
ingly exchanged for negroes from the West Indies, nearly six 
thousand of whose descendants were, at the time of the Stamp 
Act, held as slaves in the State of Massachusetts. Some of this 
number were owned in our town, though their servitude was of 
so mild a type that it could hardly be called bondage. If no 
guests were present they sat at the same table with their 
master and his family, and partook of the same food. 

If the child of Caesar or Phillip died our minister entered the 
fact on the church record with as much precision as if he had 
been the son of an archbishop. 

The state line between Massachusetts and Connecticut was 
near enough to us so that an escaping fugitive could easily cross 
the border, but so kindly were the slaves treated that we find no 
, case of a runaway here who did not return of his own accord. 
There was an unwritten law in this vicinity that any slave who 
had been cruelly and unjustly beaten by his master should be 
given food and concealment if he asked for it. The truth of the 
following incident is fully vouched for : 

Two brothers, both of them having families, lived near here, 
but several miles apart. The elder had an undisciplined temper, 
which was easily aroused, while the younger was of a gentle dis- 
position. The former had, in a fit of anger, punished one of his 
slaves so severely that the negro ran away. He soon found his 
way to the house of the younger brother and asked for his pro- 
tection. Here he remained, working faithfully, until on a certain 
day word was hastily brought that the owner was approaching, 
determined to reclaim his property, and vowing that vengeance 
should be taken on the culprit. The "Live Moor," as negroes 



168 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

were then called, was quickly hidden beneath an empty hogshead 
in the cellar, and the host went forth to meet the quondam 
master with a placid smile. In respose to an impatient demand 
for the bondman, he said that he would search for the slave if 
the owner would promise upon the Bible not to whip the fugi- 
tive. This offer met with a prompt and decided refusal. "Look 
for him yourself then," said the younger brother, in an unmoved 
tone. Look he did, but to no avail. At last, finding that threats, 
bribes and prayers were wholly unheeded, he gave the required 
promise, and thereafter treated the runaway so well that he 
never again attempted to escape. 

The slaveholder was often a man of religious as well as 
social prominence, and ministers sometimes found this owner- 
ship their leading title to aristocracy. The list of masters in this 
town included the names of — Deacon David Nash, Deacon Wil- 
liam Eastman, Squire Benjamine Eastman, David Mitchell, etc. 
The road from the house of the latter to the present homestead 
of Johu Graves was designated for years as Slave street. 

After the Eevolution it had become evident that the climate 
of Massachusetts was too severe for a race reared in the warm 
latitudes of the Antilles, and slavery was an improfitable invest- 
ment. It died away in this region quietly, and without the 
exercise of law. One of the stones in the old burying ground 
bore this inscription: "William McGee, Died Mar. 2, 1861, AE 
101." This marked the grave of the last slave born before the 
war of independence, who was buried in our cemetery. 

"Bill McGee," as he was always called, had been owned 
in youth by a man in New Jersey, who was not always kind to 
him. One day he was sent to pick huckleberries in a swamp in- 
fested with wild animals, and was not permitted to carry even a 
stick with which to defend himself. His pail was nearly full 
when he saw a large bear advancing leisurly toward him, snip- 
ping at the bushes on either side of the path. "I knew jest what 
kind of a huckleberry dat bar was after, and I started to run, 
and never stopped running till I got to Massachusetts," was his 
explanation to his South Hadley neighbors. In extreme old 
age it was his delight to gather a group of children about him 



SOUTH HADLEY AFTER THE EEVOLUTION IG!) 

and tell them stories of the Revolution. His fame as a eenten- 
narian annoyed him, and if anyone questioned him in regard to 
his age his answer was, "I am so old that I am ashamed to be 
alive." He was held in such universal respect that everyone 
was ready to contribute to his headstone. 

Even before the passage of the Fugitive Slave Bill, South 
Hadley became one of the earliest stations on the underground 
railroad. Runaway slaves who reached Springfield were sent 
to a Mr. BuUens, at Chicopee; he forwarded them to our town, 
whence they were transported across the mountain to South 
Amherst, where, feeling themselves comparatively safe, a part 
of them remained, while others pressed on to Canada. A 
parallel line ran upon the other side of the Connecticut River. 
Slaves were sent from Springfield to be concealed in the house of 
Rev. Thomas Rand, who was or had been one of the first Bap- 
tist ministers in Holyoke, and were sent from there to North- 
ampton. These journeys were usually made under cover of the 
darkness, in the middle of the night. Among those who re- 
ceived hospitality here were Lewis and Milton Clark, the former 
being the original George Harris of Mrs. Stowe's "Uncle Tom's 
Cabin." The story of all these escapes would fill a volume. 

Few events have produced so great a change in our town 
as the Temperance Reformation. It was a common saying here 
that cider was as plentiful as water. Some of our old inven- 
tories state that the deceased had "a decent supply of furni- 
ture," but the list usually includes a hand-press for the grind- 
ing of apples. Soldiers returning from war sometimes brought 
back an appetite for something stronger than cider. R^un had 
been served as a part of their rations when there had been un- 
usual exposure, or on occasions of great rejoicing, and statistics 
show that twenty-five years after the Revolution the .average 
consumption of intoxicating liquor was three times as large as 
it had been when the Declaration of Independence was signed. 

At the settlement of the town there had been a law that no 
one should drink liquor after nine o 'clock in the evening, but this 
appears to have become a dead letter. The moderate drinker 
had always the example of the parson to plead in his own 



170 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

defense. Eev. Joseph Condit, who was settled here in 1835, 
was the first one of our ministers wlio refused the glass of cider, 
hrandv, or the spiced elderberry vnne, which his parishioners 
delighted to offer him, and when he made his pastoral calls, cake 
and cheese soon took the place of the former hospitable toddy. 

It was not considered a heinous otfense for young men to 
get together for a con\'ivial time, in the long winter evenings. 
It was looked upon as a great joke to give one of their number 
a surprise, and ask for spirituous liquor till they had exhausted 
his store and he was compelled to refuse them. The last of these 

gatherings was at the house of Mr. J. , on Hadley street. 

This host was himself a professional joker, and was looked upon 
as a fair butt for their fun. Fortunately for him, he had five 
minutes' warning before the company arrived, and filled the 
shelves of his cupboard with empty bottles of dark glass. As 
he opened the last of the full ones, he swung back the door of the 
cupboard, and pointing to the row of bottles, said cheerily, 
"Don't stop yet ! We must go through all those." His visitors, 
much chagrined, soon departed, and when later they found out 
the truth, this custom of "drinking a man dry" was dropped. 

The faithful sermons of Mr. Condit against the use of ardent 
spirits had prepared the way for a Temperance Crusade. The 
Washingtonian Movement, which was said to have reformed 150,- 
000 persons, had begun in Northampton, and conventions were 
held there. To these went delegates from South Hadley, and 
the following incident was related to the author as being the first 
total abstinence story ever told in this town: 

One of the farmers, who, like all others of his ilk, kept sheep, 
was in the habit of taking a glass of bitters every morning be- 
fore breakfast. Two of his sons did the same, but the third, 
too young to drink spirituous liquors, had only the sugar at the 
bottom of the glasses. The father, much impressed by what he 
had heard at the Temperance Convention, and feeling that he 
might have given his children a better preparation for the duties 
of life than teaching them to drink ardent spirits, promised that 
if his two sons would for a specified time give up their morn- 
ing dram, he would present each of them with a fine sheep. They 



SOUTH HADLEY AFT1']R THE REVOLUTION 171 

assented to this proposal, upon wbieli the small boy asked, 
"What will you give me if I will go without the sugar at the bot- 
tom of the glass?" "You," returned the parent promptly, 
"shall have a lamb." Next morning the three sons were sit- 
ting at table while the father mixed bis usual dram. Suddenly 
the youngest said, in a perfectly respectful tone: "Father, 
hadn't you better take a sheep, too?" His conscience was 
touched, and, tlirowing the contents of his glass from the win- 
dow, he signed the pledge, and was ever after a total abstainer 
from strong drink. 

The pledge, which was signed by nearly all the children in 
our town, ran thus : 

' ' This little band do with our hand 
The pledge now sign, to drink no wine. 
Nor whiskey hot, which makes the sot, 
Nor fiery rum, to turn our home 
Into a hell where none can dwell. 
So now we pledge perpetual hate 
To all that can intoxicate." 

A portion of these rhymes, with an appropriate picture, 
was printed upon pieces of thick satin ribbon and given to the 
children to wear as badges at South Hadley's great temper- 
ance picnic, which the oldest inhabitants still delight to recall. 

The contagion of example spread, and the successive years 
in which our town voted no-license may have been a part of the 
aftermath from these early reforms. 

The annual observance of Visiting Day was retained here 
until after the middle of the nineteenth century. On a certain 
day in each year, appointed by the minister, all the inhabitants 
of the village were expected to be at home, the men freshly 
shaven, and the women and children in clean dresses and aprons. 
The family Bible was placed ready at hand upon the candle 
stand. The deacons, in their Sunday best, and assisted by some 
of the leading church members, sallied forth two and two in 
order to visit every family in the neighborhood. They began 
their call by inquiring of everyone in regard to the state of his 



172 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

or her soul. "Have you been converted?" "Do you spend some 
portion of each day in secret prayer?" "Have you the full as- 
surance of faith?" "Do you maintain family worship every 
morning and evening?" etc. After a time one visitor read 
aloud a chapter from the Bible. Then all knelt while the other 
offered a long prayer. This custom appears to have been a sur- 
vival of the old times when five tithing men were chosen at our 
town meeting to look after the moral and spiritual welfare of 
families and see to it that the children were taught to repeat 
the catechism. 

During the Revolution so many of our men were absent in 
camp that, as in other towns, women and girls learned to care 
for the fields and gardens. One of the South Hadley matrons 
thus describes life in 1785: 

"It was not uncommon for young ladies of the first families 
to spend some hours in a day in weeding their gardens. They 
were dressed in a coarse wrapper, with a slat sunbonnet com- 
pletely covering the face, and gloves from the shoulders to the 
middle of the fingers, leaving the ends bare to pull the weeds. 
Thus they set an example of humility and diligence to their in- 
feriors, which had a very desirable effect." 

We are indebted to the same writer for the following pic- 
ture of our old church, with its square pews, when the August 
sun streamed through the windows, all of which were guiltless 
of blinds. 

"You would almost laugh to look into our meeting house 
on the Sabbath, to see the young men in the galleries, all in their 
shirt sleeves, and the girls and women with their bonnets im- 
tied, and all looking as if they had been making hay." 

The discomfort of the summer heat was, however, but 
trifling when compared with the suffering occasioned by the win- 
ter 's cold. The severity of the climate was simply mitigated, not 
tempered, by the use of small foot stoves. The supply of these 
was so limited that only the aged, the infirm, and children were 
expected to use them. Stoves of the old-fashioned box kind 
appeared in our meeting house but a short time previous to 1840. 
We find the parish in 1838 voting to "make such alterations in 



SOUTH HADLEY AFTER THE REVOLUTION 173 

fitting up stoves to warm the house, as they (the committee) 
shall deem expedient." They also voted to "take away parti- 
tion to give room for stoves." 

During the long time before the introduction of artificial 
heat into the meeting house, people had become accustomed to 
a cold church, and there was now some opposition to the purchase 
of stoves. Their warmth, it was argued, would promote drowsi- 
ness, and the words of the preacher would fail of effect. This 
sinful indulgence of the body would also tend toward weakness 
of soul. The amount of heat diffused was at first so little that 
the old folks became reconciled, and even came to church a half 
an hour before time for the service to begin in order to stand 
together around the fire while they warmed their cold hands 
and exchanged the news of the day. 

For a short time previous to 1830 "cook stoves" were ad- 
vertised for sale at Bardwell's store in the Canal Village, as 
South Hadley Falls was then called. The following description 
of the first one actually in use here is from the pen of Mr. 
Byron Smith, and will be of interest to those who do not under- 
stand how so long a time could have intervened before the 
cooking range superseded the old-fashioned fireplace in do- 
mestic affairs. 

"The first cooking stove was brought into South Had- 
ley by E. T. Smith in the fall of 1835. The name of it was the 
Doctor Mott (or Nott) stove, after the man who invented it. 
It was made of cast iron and was so heavy that four men were 
needed to carry it into the ell part of the old Woodbridge house 
in which Mrs. Hollingsworth now lives, where it was set up. 
The stove was made after the style of an old iron fire frame. 
There were two holes for kettles, and above them a broad top, or 
shelf, which had to be lifted up when the kettles were taken off 
the stove. There was no oven in this first stove ; it would take 
in a stick of wood two feet long. Improvements were made so 
rapidly that this crude affair was abandoned after two years." 
He adds: "E. T. Smith also brought into town the first load of 
wheat flour in barrels. He had moved here from Rochester, 
New York, where the Kempshal flour was manufactured, and 



174 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

had purchased twenty barrels, which were sent East by the Erie 
Canal to New York, then up the Connecticut Eiver to Middle- 
town. The river at this place was frozen over, so two teams 
were sent down from here, driven by Deacon Sedgwick White 
and Q. M. Smith, who brought up the flour. The people were 
wild with interest, and thought it a great extravagance. Previ- 
ously, wheat flour had been used sparingly, and as a great lux- 
ury. ' ' 

The coming of the cook stove in South Hadley was ante- 
dated in 1821 by the introduction into the pulpit at the meeting 
house of an oblong iron box in which a fire might be kindled. 
This was done at the request of the pastor, Eev. Joel Hayes, 
who had preached here for nearly forty years, without losing 
a single service on account of illness. He was now an old man 
approaching seventy, and suffered keenly from the frigid at- 
mosphere of the building. 

There being no chimney, some outlet must be provided for 
the escape of smoke. A pane of glass was probably removed 
from the leaded window near by, thus making an opening 
through which the end of the pipe could be conveyed into the 
open air. The pew next this stove had always been accounted 
one of the most honorable seats in the meeting house, having 
been occupied by the leading widows of the town. It now became 
also one of the most comfortable. The old records were care- 
ful to state that this stove was not presented to the minister, 
but would remain the property of the town. 

It had been customary in the winter for all the members 
of the congregation to spend the intermission between the morn- 
ing and afternoon services either in their own homes or at the 
friendly Noon Houses, which every Sunday opened liosi)itable 
doors to the shivering worshipers. After the benediction had 
been pronounced, each person remained standing in perfect 
silence while the minister descended the eight stairs leading 
from the pulpit. As he reached the outer door, all hastened to 
leave the cold meeting house, the parsonage receiving its full 
quota of visitors. The children, with their mothers, walked 
across the common to the tavern of Deacon Joseph Wliite, which 



SOUTH HADLEY AFTER THE EEVOLUTION 175 

stood upon the western slope, and was later known as the Old 
Chandler House. Here they were received by a portly, fine 
looking man, and his sweet-faced little wife, whose gentleness 
won all hearts. 

There were no furniture stores near here at that time, and 
in this town the chairs were made by the skilled hands of Syl- 
vester Higgins, who pegged them together so stoutly that they 
are still able to defy the ravages of time. 

There were not enough chairs for the children, who were 
bidden to seat themselves upon the little footstoves, which were 
now entirely cold. Then Deacon Wliite brought in an immense 
pan of nut cakes, and his wife followed with a towering plate of 
cheese. In suppressed tones the women related to one an- 
other the events of the week, but at the first stroke of the bell, 
which Colonel "VVoodbridge had given. Deacon Joseph raked out 
the glowing embers from the big fireplace, emptied the iron 
boxes which had been taken out of the little footstoves, and 
filled them with live coals, placing a layer of hot ashes upon 
the top in order to conserve the heat. Then the little proces- 
sion started back beneath the bare limbs of the cherry and pear 
trees that overhung their path, bringing memories of summer 
fruits. 

Invalids, very old people and distinguished guests were 
expected to spend their noonings at the house of Dr. Dwight, 
which was afterwards removed in order to yield its site to the 
College Art Building. It was a spacious dwelling, a portion of 
which has been fitted up as an infirmary. The name of Dr. Elihu 
Dwight was constantly spoken of as the synonym of hospitality. 
In his large central hall there was always kept a table and 
chairs, and he had one undeviating rule for his household: "Let 
no person ever enter my door without finding in this hall, cake, 
and, in its season, fruit, awaiting him." Ably seconded by his 
wife, their house was usually thronged with visitors. 

Dr. Dwight 's kindness was not limited to his guests. Believ- 
ing that the early inhabitants of Hockanum found it a hard 
struggle to subdue the rocky soil, he offered to give them his 
medical services in return for his annual supply of pumpkins. 



176 IN" OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

They agreed to this, and when ill sent for him. Every autumn 
he might be seen on a certain day driving home a cart piled 
high with his yellow prizes. He was the dentist as well as the 
physician of the town, and his kind heart suffered at the pain 
he was compelled to inflict in this branch of his profession. 

The late Mr. Nash, of Moody Corner, used to tell how, when 
he was a lad, he went down to Dr. Dwight to have an ulcerated 
tooth extracted. The dentist had no forceps, and only a cruel, 
iron turnkey with which to twist it out. The instant Dr. Dwight 
looked at the tooth he saw that it could not be taken out with- 
out giving the youth a moment of supreme agony. ' ' How much 
will it cost to have it pulled?" asked Erastus. "Well," re- 
turned the medical man, "if I give you much pain I shall have 
to charge you twenty-five cents, but if I don't hurt you, it will 
not cost you anything. ' ' After he had finished and the boy was 
ready to return home, the latter produced his two ninepences. 
' ' How much is it ?" he inquired. ' ' Did I hurt you ? ' ' queried the 
Doctor. ' ' N-no, sir, ' ' replied the plucky lad. ' ' Then you owe me 
nothing," said the dentist, and the boy departed homeward, 
the coins jingling merrily in his pockets. 

It is hard at this epoch to realize the fortitude required of 
our forefathers, and the patient industry needed at a time when 
the present common necessities of life were often deemed luxur- 
ies. We find among the old papers of a former South Hadley 
merchant this label: "Roberts, Pin and Needle Maker to Her 
Eoyal Highness, the Dutchess of Clarence. Roberts' Royal Im- 
prov'd Pins." In the early part of the nineteenth century, 
these London pins were sometimes a dollar a paper, and very 
small papers at that. So costly was this article that brides 
were given as a part of their dowry a sum sufiBcient for their 
purchase, which was called their Pin Money. About the time of 
the Revolution, people began to manufacture them in this coun- 
try, but it was said that without a division of labor it would re- 
quire several hours to make a single one. Some of these old 
pins still remain in the town. They were formed by cutting off 
a piece of brass wire of the required length, one end of which 
was carefully sharpened to a point upon a grindstone. The 



SOUTH HADLEY AFTEE THE EEVOLUTION 177 

head was prepared by winding a finer and more delicate wire 
into spirals of exactly the same size as the body of the pin. Two 
or three of these coils were cut off, slipped over the point, and 
pushed to the other extremity of the bit of brass wire, where it 
was riveted, thus forming the head of the pin. These proved to 
be clumsy and expensive affairs. 

Wlien Stephen White set up his carding mill here, the rolls 
of wool were sent home carefully wrapped in coarse tow cloth, 
but the scarcity of these brass pins was so great that he paid 
the boys a certain sum per thousand for thorns to be used in 
their stead. Eyelets through which linen twine could be 
passed were used as fastenings upon many articles of dress, 
and a bodkin was sure to be found in the work-basket of every 
family. 

One of the most pressing needs in the olden households 
was to find some easy method of kindling fires. In the scat- 
tered houses of our more remote districts it was often neces- 
sary in winter for members of the family to sit up in turn 
through the night in order to keep the fire alive. The great 
back log must be banked at the close of the evening, or it would 
be burned out before morning, and if, on the other hand, it was 
covered too deeply with ashes, it would be smothered. In places 
where there were several houses near together one could take 
risks, for the men of South Hadley, who knew (as we have had 
ocular proof) how to make their own ploughs and pitchforks, 
also constructed small iron boxes, with handles two or three 
feet long, intended for the borrowing of live coals from a neigh- 
bor's fire. And the first smoke rising from a friend's chimney 
was a signal that help was to be had there. 

After the close of the Revolutionary War, some of our sol- 
diers, returning with their flint locks, resorted to a new expedi- 
ent for procuring a flame. The screw at the end of the ramrod 
was twisted into a mass of refuse tow, then drawn out and 
rammed into the barrel of the gun. A pinch of powder was de- 
posited in the flash pan, and a percussion cap put into place. 
When the latter had been exploded, splinters of pitch pine were 
thrust into the burning tow, which had been ignited, and from 



178 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

these sticks a blaze could be quickly started in the old fireplace. 
This method, however, was used sparingly, many families ob- 
jecting to so noisy a process for kindling a fire. 

The earliest form of matches introduced into this covmtry 
found its way into South Hadley, but apparently met with 
scanty favor, only one of its time-worn boxes remaining here 
to tell the tale. It consisted of a number of small bits of wood 
tipped with sulphur, and a bottle of phosphorus, all incased in a 
small box bearing upon one side a piece of flint. The wooden 
matches were to be dipped, one by one, as they were needed, 
into the phosphorus and then drawn across the piece of flint. The 
flame thus obtained was of so evanescent a character that a 
bit of wood whose end had been dipped in turpentine must be 
kept at hand in order to be immediately lighted. They were 
sometimes dangerous when left within the reach of children, 
for a drop of the phosphorus would instantly burn a hole through 
woolen cloth. 

Tradition tells us that one of these boxes of matches was 
carried to school by a thoughtless pupil; all the other girls 
must needs examine it, and the result was so disastrous to their 
woolen dresses that the new invention was banished from our 
town. 

The first patent upon friction matches issued by the United 
States was given to Alonzo D. Phillips of Springfield, Mass.. 
in the autumn of 1836, and he began their manufacture in that 
city. He formed a paste by mixing glue, chalk, sulphur and 
phosphorus, and into this the end of each match was dipped. 
Two years later, Stephen Merchant of South Hadley, who lived 
in the house now occupied by Emil Burnette, made matches six 
inches long, which he sold for a cent apiece. They were in cards 
which he had sawed out by hand, and with every box there went 
a folded piece of sandpaper. Someone, probably Pliillips, ac- 
cused him of infringing upon another man's patent, and com- 
pelled him to close up his business. 

Other household conveniences had been gradually coming 
into use. Sanded floors had been on the whole rather trouble- 
some. The first carpet made in the town was woven by Mrs. 



SOUTH HADLEY AFTER THE REVOLUTION ITlJ' 

Jerusha Powers, and after nearly a century of wear its colors; 
are almost as soft and harmonious to-day as when it first came 
from the loom. The first ingrain carpet was purchased by Mr, 
Robert Brainard of Falls Woods. This was deemed such an 
unheard-of extravagance that six of his Methodist brethren, 
including the deacons, came in a body to remonstrate with him, 
l)ut he defended his course with such ability that they departed, 
half convinced that he was in the right. His wisdom has been 
demonstrated by the fact that seventy years later it is now still 
in use, and its brilliant hues were long the pride of the neigh- 
borhood. 

To-day clocks are looked upon as an essential part of the 
household plenishing. But when the early settlers migrated to 
the south of the mountain, we find no trace of these useful arti- 
cles in their inventories. Their first town timepiece was a large 
rock at Taylor's Notch, situated on the new road to the Sum- 
mit House upon Mt. Holyoke. This boulder was close to the 
ridge where lladley ends and South Hadley begins. In fair 
weather the haymaker who thrust his pitchfork into the ground 
knew that when its shadow pointed to Taylor's Eock the sun 
must have jiist reached its meridian, and without the winding of 
the dinner horn laid down his scythe. 

The oldest clock in town was made with wooden wheels 
and but one pointer, the hour hand. The space between the fig- 
ures on the dial was divided into quarters, so that one could 
iearn from its face the approximate time. It had no case, but 
was intended to be hung upon the wall. 

It was not until after Shays' Rebellion that the old "Grand- 
father's Clock" appeared. This also was destitute of cover- 
ing, and its works were nailed to the wall. One of the first 
of these was purchased by Gardner Preston, Senior, and he 
determined that his clock should liave a case. He accordingly 
carried the works to Auraunah Collins, who lived in Fall 
Woods, offering to give him a cow if the latter would make a 
cherry case. Runy did so, and it was so handsomely carved 
by hand that Mr. Preston gave him "the best cow in his barn."^ 

About 1800 a town clock was installed, the payment for 



180 IX OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

which did not appear to be forthcoming. Two years later 
someone devised a plan by which this expense could be met. 
College street had been laid out ten rods wide, and it had been 
the custom to build houses with the front doorstep lying exactly 
upon the edge of the highway. But it was now the fashion to 
have a yard in front of the dwelling, so a strip of land was sold 
upon each side of the street, wide enough for a pretty lawn, 
and the clock was paid for. On Woodbridge street a strip 
thirty-three feet wide was sold from the eastern side of the 
highway, while the western was left as before. 

The early part of the nineteenth century was a period of 
transition. There were changes in dress, a fleeting glimpse of 
which is given in a brief extract from an old letter of a South 
Hadley girl, dated January 29, 1806. 

"The dresses here are for the outside Pelisses, Shag Bon- 
nets, and Woolen Tippets. The most fashionable color for the 
latter is scarlet. They are made of common stocking yarn, net- 
ted like the trimming of your white cloak, about a quarter of a 
yard broad, and a yard and a half long ; they look a little like a 
skein of yarn tied around the neck. 

"Ornamental hair combs are also fashionable. They have 
them from seven to ten dollars apiece. ' ' 

A most welcome change in dress occurred here about 1800. 
It was the introduction of what were called "Top Boots." The 
stout buckle shoes then in common use had proven to be an 
insufficient protection while wading through wintry snows, and 
most of the yeomanry had provided themselves with leggings 
made of deerskin. But gentlemen like Colonel "Woodbridge, 
who reveled in white silk stockings, needed, as they walked or 
rode on our sandy streets, some kind of covering as a protec- 
tion against dust and rain. These coverings were called ' ' spat- 
terdashes," and in summertime were usually made of white 
linen, being fastened under the foot and extending upward 
nearly to the knee, and sometimes beyond it. In the winter they 
were generally made of broadcloth, and often handsomely em- 
broidered. 



SOUTH HADLEY AFTER THE REVOLUTION 181 

The coining of the boot sounded the death knell of the 
smallclothes, which now gave way to the pantaloon. 

Though this town had sent more than its quota of soldiers 
during the Eevolution, it wholly disapproved of the War of 1812. 
A meeting was called and delegates sent to Northampton with 
instructions to oppose to the uttermost what they deemed a 
needless warfare. 

At the breaking out of the Civil War, however, the patriot- 
ism of the town was unquestioned. Many of our finest young 
men enlisted, encouraged thereto by the inspiring woi'ds of Mr. 
G. Morgan Smith. 

Although debarred from personal service in the army by 
reason of lameness, he did most effective work in the securing 
of volunteers. 

One incident of these times appears to have escaped the 
notice of historians. About the time that the term "Copper- 
head" began to be applied to Southern sympathizers, a Mr. 
Henry rented the house now owned by Mrs. Thomas White. 
From the beginning it was said there was something mysterious 
connected with his coming. He lived alone and his food was sent 
in from outside. Callers were rarely invited to enter the house. 
He wrote and received an astonishing number of letters, his daily 
mail being greater than that of any other person in South Had- 
ley. In the barn were stored several heavy boxes, the covers 
of which were carefully nailed down. A story was started that 
the boxes contained munitions of war awaiting shipment to the 
Confederacy. The excitement increased day by day, until the 
more impulsive among the villagers determined to mob him. 
The appointed evening found his yard filled with angry, clam- 
orous men. Then Mr. Emerson Bates, with two others of a like 
rare courage, placed themselves in front of the doorway. "You 
will reach this man only over our dead bodies!" they said, 
firmly. At this moment the door opened and Mr. Henry ap- 
peared. "Walk in, gentlemen," he said blandly. "What is it 
that you wish to say to me?" 

In some confusion they stammered their desire to examine 
the boxes. "Certainly," he said, "let hammers and chisels be 



183 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

brought at once." With these they proceeded to the harn, and 
began to unpack the boxes. They found them filled to the very 
bottom with scientific books, many of them being works relating 
to chess. Then they adjourned to the house, where Mr. Henry 
invited them to examine his daily mail. This revealed the fact 
that by means of letters he was conducting games of chess with 
other experts all over the country, and thus the mystery was 
solved. 

Until after the country had gained its independence. South 
Hadley had but small opportunity for intellectual growth. It is 
stated that in 1783 there was not a public library in the whole 
United States, nor a permanent newspaper published in Western 
Massachusetts. The establishment of the Hampshire Gazette in 
Northampton three years later gave a new impulse to the dif- 
fusion of intelligence in this section. Our town having no postal 
service, a horseman went through the principal streets, his sad- 
dle bags filled with Gazettes. His coming was announced by 
ringing a bell in front of every house, when some member of the 
family was expected to go out and receive the paper. In 1802 
Oliver Taylor distributed newspapers in the southern part of 
the town, while one of the Lymans usually covered the northern 
route. 

Ours was certainly one of the banner towns in the establish- 
ment of libraries. In 1802 was commenced "Ye Social Library 
of South Hadley." This organization was kept up for forty 
years. In the beginning several Granby families, including the 
Smiths, joined in the enterprise. A meeting of the association 
was held once in three months : upon the third Tuesday in March, 
June, September, and December, at ' ' Three of the clock. ' ' The 
last meeting of the year was, on account of the short days, to be 
at "One of the clock." A few of the titles will give some idea 
of the class of reading. 

No. 68 was fifty-four sermons bound together. 

No. 101— Seneca 's Writings. 

No. 113 — Sermons preached after the Eevolution, one of 
them being delivered July 29, 1784, on "Thanksgiving Day, at 



SOUTH HADLEY AFTER THE REVOLUTION 183 

the close of the American War," from the text — "Many times 
did he deliver them. ' ' 

No. 145 — Military Journal of the Revolution. 
No. 57 — Volume of Sermons. 
No. 227— View of the World. 

We find among the old books a collection of Hymns written 
in 1759, during the French and Indian War. We cull a single 
stanza : 

"Deserter, to the camp return, 
Resume your former post, 
Bewail your crime, your baseness mourn. 
For yet you are not lost." 

The book was republished nine times, and the tenth edition, 
printed after we had won our independence, bore upon its title 
page this exultant verse of Scripture: "Oh, sing unto the Lord 
a new song His right hand and His holy arm hath got- 
ten Him the \dctory." 

During the first twenty years this society appears to have 
sold at intervals one hundred and eighty volumes, which led 
to a renumbering. The library was kept at the house of Mr. 
Jonathan Burnett, this being a convenient place for Falls Woods 
people; and here, as one of its patrons expressed it, 

"Four times each year these savants met 
And drew their treasures from the shelves : 
Auctioned the books that each might get 
His rights; and all might suit themselves." 

The auctioning was not a sale of books, but he who bid high- 
est upon any given volume could have the first loan of it. 
Weem's Life of Washington was the leading favorite, followed 
by the Biographies by Jared Sparks, Baxter's Saints Rest, Bun- 
yan's Pilgrim's Progress, and a multitude of Missionary Her- 
alds kept up the religious tone of the association. 

Next in succession came the "Publick Libra," of which num- 
ber 202 was published in 1812, and was entitled "A Treatise of 
Religious Experiences." 

The "Smith Library Association" was here in 1840. Books 



18-1 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

were taken out on the first Saturday of eaeli month, between the 
hours of two and four o'clock. It was considerately added, 
"Books may be drawn at any other time by paying to the libra- 
rian one cent for each volume." This was in District Number 
One. 

Time would fail to describe all of our libraries, including 
the Farmers, the Atheneum, and the Agricultural, most of whose 
books were destroyed b^^ the burning of our fourth church, they 
having been stored in its basement. 

The Sabbath School Library, established in 1826, has been 
previously alluded to. 

Perhaps these helps toward a broader charity came at just 
the right moment. In 1802 the constable had been ordered to 
warn eight people, with "Their children and others under their 
care," to leave South Hadley within fifteen days, they having 
settled here without first obtaining the consent of the inhabit- 
ants. This was done in order to prevent their becoming a charge 
upon the town. 

Yet, if any of its own citizens, through sickness or some 
other misfortune, had become destitute, both church and town 
showed a generous sympathy. In the note book of an old deacon, 
we find these entries : 

"Minutes of the committee meeting of South Hadley 
Church. Voted to send Abigail a quart of wine on Communion 
Sunday, May 1st." 

"Voted to send Abigail a pint and a half of wine next Com- 
munion Day, July third. ' ' 

"Abigail" was a chronic invalid, unable to attend divine 
service and with but a scanty pittance of her own. The minister 
was expected to take one of the deacons with him and occasion 
ally administer the sacrament of the Lord 's Supper at her bed- 
side. There were other quaint entries : 

' ' To-day Enos Woodbridge forgot to bring his ninepence to 
church; Josiah Snow paid it, and he is to pay Josiah Snow's at 
the next contribution." 

The case of Anne Hillyer would surprise a present-day over- 
seer of the poor. Her grandfather, Timothy Hillyer, had been 



SOUTH HADLEY AFTER THE REYOLrTIOX l.So 

one of the early settlers and had built a small, three-roomed 
house a few rods east of the present residence of A. P. KjoUer. 
He was a warm friend of Rev. Grindall Eawson, and when the 
latter was forcibly dismissed, showed his disapproval by absent- 
ing himself from communion for more than a year. His de- 
scendants were poor, and seventy years later the house began to 
show signs of decay. In 1807 the town sent its selectmen and 
assessors to examine the house, "And if they find it not worth 
repairing, they are empowered to build a new one in the same 
place." It was put into such good order that it lasted thirty 
years longer. Then David, the last of the Hillyers, took his own 
life, and the house was torn down by David Chandler, who in- 
herited the place by will, the town making no claim for past ex- 
penses. 

After the Revolution came the fashion of giving children 
what was called a double Christian name. Before that we had 
Comfort Smith, Bitterne Selden, Ivory Witt, Cotton White, Pre- 
served Wood, Aristobolus Lyman, and Resolve Tuller, all these 
being men. 

Of girls there were Philopheta Ferry, Esmereniana Preston, 
Sapplina Judd, Comfort Domo, and Spiddy Ferry. But during 
the Nineteenth Centurv, modern names were substituted. 



CHAPTER TEN 

IN THE CHIMNEY CORNEB 

A CENTURY ago, any South Hadley family who could 
secure the services of Granny Murray for the week pre- 
ceding Thanksgiving Day was accounted fortunate indeed. 
She was received with as much state as if she were a duchess, 
and the best seat in the chimney corner was reserved for her 
during the long evenings. 

The merely mechanical work of cookery was distasteful to 
her, and the young folks were required to chop the meat and pare 
the apples for the mince pies, and do what she termed the 
drudgery. They found her a strict disciplinarian. If the youth 
tired of the persistent chopping, and inquired in a plaintive tone 
if it were not fine enough, a high-pitched, mocking voice was 
sure to reply: "If you chop it too fine it will be rank pizen." 

But when the day's work was ended and the household sat 
'round the big fireplace. Granny Murray would tell stories of the 
olden time, legends that sometimes held the children spell- 
bound at their vivid recital. She could repeat to them the story 
of the old witch who lived on the Belchertown Road. How one 
day a man, against whom the witch held a grudge, was driving 
to South Hadley with his ox-team. As he was nearing her house, 
a green frog suddenly leaped upon the neap of his cart, and on 
the instant the oxen stopped. Vainly the owner urged them on 
with voice and whip; they remained immovable. Suddenly 
alighting, he struck the frog a swift blow across the mouth, 
!when it disappeared, and the team jogged along as before. 
Soon they passed the house of the witch, who stood at the well, 
washing a bloody mark from lier face. "I was climbing the 
fence, and I fell otf," she exclaimed, but he knew now from 
whence came the green frog. 

There were stories about Enos Woodbridge, a son of the 
town's second minister. His baptismal name was Aeneas, and 
some of his oddities of speech were recorded in Holland's His- 



IN THE CHIMNEY CORNER 187 

tory of Western Massachusetts. "Uncle Enos," as he was fa- 
miliarly called, had heen a shrewd lad, kindly disposed, but 
sensitive to an unusual degree. At one time his parents, sup- 
posing that he was persisting in a falsehood, when he was actu- 
ally telling the truth, administered a severe chastisement, and 
it may be that in order to make the impression of his punish- 
ment permanent, they followed the example of other South 
Hadley families, and left the culprit for part of the day in the 
garret, with a pitcher of water, a slice of bread, and the Bible, 
Indding him read while there the future doom of the wicked. 
From that day on the boy was changed. Only once again in his 
life did he ever say ' ' yes " or " no. " " Pretty likely 'tis, " " Pret- 
ty likely 'tisn't," were his favorite substitutes. But many stor- 
ies were told about him in the chimney corner, for he lived to be 
nearly eighty years old. One of the children's favorites was the 
following : Uncle Enos was an expert swimmer, and very fond 
of the water. He often strolled down to the canal village, and 
was alwaj's ready to lend a hand, if needed, in order to man a 
boat. One day after the fishing season was over, and the beach 
nearly deserted, some young men who saw him coming down the 
road agreed to play a trick upon him. Taking him into their 
boat they went a short distance upstream, and then informed 
him that unless he would say "yes" or "no," they were going 
to throw him overboard. When asked if he would promise to do 
this, he gave his tormentors to understand that it was pretty 
likely he would not. They lifted liim up and threatened to toss 
him into the swirling waters. He maintained a stubborn silence. 
"Say yes or no," they repeated, and receiving no reply they 
threw him into the river. Then they waited for him to rise to 
the surface, when they intended to take him into the boat, if he 
complied with their demand. But though they waited long, they 
saw no signs of his reappearance. At last, in some trepidation, 
they called his name, telling him they were only joking and en- 
treating him to return. Finally they became alarmed lest he had 
been seized with cramp; they tried to examine the bed of the 
river, but the turbid waters made the attempt useless. At length, 
with blanched faces and quivering lips, they went back to the 



188 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

boat-house. Meanwhile a most unusual thing had taken place, 
the gentle Enos had lost his temper, and, as he plunged into the 
water, determined to give his assailants the punishment that he 
felt they deserved. According to the printed statements of 
former years, he had been known to swim under water half way 
across the river. He now swam rapidly till he had reached ane 
of the artificial islands that had been made in the river in order 
to be used as fishing wharves. Climbing up through the dwarf 
willows and coarse sedge, he concealed himself, peering through 
the bushes at his late companions. He heard their entreating 
cries for him to return, but remained in hiding till they were out 
of sight on their way to the landing. Then he swam to the shore 
and began his wet walk uptown. Near the brickyard he passed 
the tavern kept by the Widow Mary Pomeroy, and seeing the 
horse of his brother, Colonel Buggies Woodbridge, fastened in 
the yard, he turned and stole around to the kitchen door. The 
widow immediately ushered him into a small room, and after a 
brief search returned with a handful of towels and a suit of 
clothes which had belonged to her late husband. Major Pomeroy ; 
this she bade him wear while his own dripping garments were 
hung to dry in front of the kitchen fireplace. Hardly had the 
change been effected, when his late companions were seen com- 
ing slowly up the road. They, too, had observed the horse of 
Colonel "Woodbridge, and approaching the front door, asked to 
see him. Enos again retired into the little room, and his brother, 
ha^^ng previously heard the whole story, met them in the hall, 
determined to give them a lesson they would never forget. They 
knew that in those times the death penalty awaited murderers, 
and there were few of the modern methods of evading it. Trem- 
bling in every limb, the young men confessed their guilt and 
begged for clemency. But their eyes quailed before the stern 
glance of Colonel Woodbridge, as he answered, "The law must 
take its course. My brother was an inoffensive man, who had 
never harmed you, and it is clearly my duty to deliver you up 
to the officers of justice." Their prayers and protestations that 
they were only in fun melted the kind heart of Uncle Enos. The 
door of the little room had been left ajar. It was now pushed 



IN THE CHIMNEY COENER 189 

open, and a familiar voice said: "Pi-etty likely somebody '11 
stretch a rope. ' ' The repentant young men said afterward that 
"Pretty likely" were the sweetest words they ever heard, and 
thenceforth treated him with grateful respect. 

A new generation, however, arose who showed him less 
consideration. His evenings were generally spent at the tavern 
of Deacon Joseph White, this being the usual rallying point for 
those who, like Enos, were good church members. Moreover, he 
and Jack White were inseparable friends. One day the latter 
came to him saying that a party of travelers had just engaged 
lodging for the night. Some of the youths who had annoyed 
Enos laid a wager with the guests that they would bring in a man 
who could be neither bribed, coaxed, nor forced into saying 
either ' ' yes " or " no. ' ' The stakes had been placed in competent 
hands. "And now. Uncle Enos, "continued Jack, "you can get 
even with those young men by just this once saying "yes" and 
"no" in answer to their questions, and if they lose their 
money, they will perhaps in future let you alone." The event 
justified this prediction, and the discomfited young folks after- 
wards gave Enos a wide berth. 

Our town has its "Dolly Woodbridge Chapter of the Daugh- 
ters of the American Revolution," and the name keeps in mind 
one who was for many years a leading lady in this place. Little 
Dorothy, always known as Dolly, was born May 2, 17G3, just 
at the close of a long and desolate French and Indian war, in 
which her father. Lieutenant John Woodbridge, had spent years 
of active service. He was the tenth of that name in direct suc- 
cession, but the nine who preceded him had all been ministers 
of the Gospel, and he would doubtless have followed their ex- 
ample had not the exegencies of the war called him into the 
field. His was a true patriotism ; for he entered the lowest rank 
of the soldiery; but his ability and worth were soon apparent, 
and his promotion rapid, eventually reaching the position of 
major. 

After the completion of the town's second meeting house, 
he appears to have purchased the old one, which he moved a 
short distance to the north, and turned at right angles to its 



190 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

former position. As the meeting house had never had a chimney, 
the removal was accomplished with little difficulty, and the street 
had been laid out of such great width that the site of Judson 
Hall was then a part of the highway. The building was re- 
modeled, and its two tenements were occupied, one by Lieutenant 
Woodbridge and the other by John Chandler. Here little Dolly 
was born; but her father soon sold the dwelling and moved to 
the Rawson parsonage, where he spent the next nineteen years. 
At his death, Dolly, now a young woman nearly twenty years 
of age, seems to have taken into her special love and care her 
little seven-year-old brother, named Benjamin Ruggles in honor 
of her imcle, Coloned Woodbridge. He became a minister, but 
at the last came back to South Hadley, where he died at nearly 
the same time as his sister Dolly. There was a double funeral, 
and brother and sister were buried side by side in one wide 
grave. Dolly Woodbridge certainly combined in herself the 
leading traits of her ancestors. The patrician pride of the Earl 
of Dudley reappeared in her delicate gowns, for she was in 
summertime constantly habited in white when she entered the 
big square pew on the minister's right hand on Sunday morn- 
ings. And her dress was edged at the neck and wrists with fine 
embroidery, or feathery lace, all the work of her own hands. 
Her bonnet, a Dunstable straw, and still preserved in the histori- 
cal room, was also trimmed with white, and in very warm 
weather she changed her dress during the noon intermission, 
appearing at the aftei-noon service in dainty, fresh attire. ' ' She 
was aristocratic to the very tips of her fingers," said an old 
person in describing her, "but she was never haughty and rejiel- 
lent in her manners, and was always kind to the poor. She had 
all the dignity of her grandfather, the minister, and was never 
known to exhibit any signs of ill temper. ' ' She was a descendant 
of the famous Jolm Elliott, and had inherited the same earnest 
spirit of religious devotion. No storm kept her from her place 
in the sanctuary. "The ministe?*, the deacon, and Dolly Wood- 
bridge are sure to be at church," was a common remark. She 
was not addicted to housework, and her fair, white hands and 



IN THE CHIMNEY CORNER 191 

good eyesight enabled her to do fine needlework even to extreme 
old age. She died in May, 1844. 

About ten years before this event a strange episode had 
taken place in the religious life of the communitj'. Mormonism 
had sent some of its advance guard to South Hadley, with an 
evident intention of proselyting the inhabitants of the town. 
They did not call themselves Mormons, but Perfectionists, claim- 
ing that they had attained sinless perfection. They did not 
openly avow the doctrine of polygamy, but were believed to 
practice it. They baptized only in the name of Jesus, the rest 
of the Trinity being rarely spoken of in their meetings. The 
large woman who led the singing was named Polly, and was 
known in town as Polly Jesus. Their preacher was accused by 
our own church of being an excommunicated minister from a 
Congregational pastorate. 

In 1818, Israel Lyman had built a brick house near Rock 
Ferry, and its kitchen furnished a commodious place for the 
Sunday services of the Mormonites, who soon gathered adher- 
ents all the way from South Hadley Falls to Hockanum. A 
prayer meeting was held one afternoon in each week, and did 
much toward spreading their influence in this vicinity. 

From the late R. O. Dwight's account of their Sabbath Day 
services, we quote the following: "The large room, on week 
days a kitchen, was now arranged with rows of chairs on three 
sides, leaving a large space vacant in the center." .... 
"There was the brooding stillness of a Quaker meeting. At last 
the very large woman arose, stepped into the vacant space 
and began a solemn march. Others joined in the silent prome- 
nade around the floor until all who felt moved to take part had 
done so. Then the men and women formed lines facing one an- 
other, and in Shaker style began a shuffling dance toward each 
other, singing, imder lead of the large woman's clear and power- 
ful voice, strange psalms to stirring tunes. Gradually the dance 
grew faster, forward and then back again, and the singing 
louder, until those who came to look on were drawn by the ex- 
citing scenes to join this strange people, and dance and sing 
with the best of them. This performance was continued so long 



193 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

as strength and breath remained, and then the Mormon meeting 
abruptly ended." 

As this sect gained in numbers, it was proposed that a 
church should be formed and a building erected for public wor- 
ship. Subscriptions were solicited and obtained for the further- 
ance of this plan. Upon this our own church became alive to its 
responsibilities. Eev. Mr. Boies, assisted by Eev. B. R. Wood- 
bridge (the brother of Dolly Woodbridge) engaged in an active 
campaign against Mormonism. Eight members of our church 
were excommunicated, and others were persuaded to forsake 
the new sect. The Perfectionist leaders, and a part of their dis- 
ciples, left town. One of tlie latter returned, saying that she had 
received a revelation directing her to go home. She married 
happily, and in her old age used to say that she had never re- 
gretted coming back. 

Later on others were excommunicated from our church on 
account of their change in religious belief, and for persistently 
absenting themselves from communion. 

A spirited warfare of words was carried on, an example of 
which is subjoined. 

In his letter, Rev. Mr. Boies accuses the Mormonites of re- 
viling their fellow church members, and calling them ' ' Children 
of the Devil," also of despising the House of God, denying the 
Sabbath to be Holy time, and pretending to be endowed with the 
power of working miracles. He denounces their belief as "The 
doctrines of the devil," and concludes his letter in these words: 
"Think, oh, think of the dreadful apostasy you have commenced! 
But should you disregard this friendly admonition the church 
has but one duty to perform, awful as it is. It is to cut you off 
from the congregation of the Lord, and leave you in the hand of 
that God whom you have deeply dishonored, and before whom 
you must soon stand to answer for the deeds done here in the 
body. In behalf of the Church, A. Boies, Pastor." 

In reply to this letter Miss A. wrote back: "You say 

you have one more duty to perform, 'awful as it is,' that is, to 
cut us off. It is not at all awful to us. I cut myself off months 
ago, and have no longer any fellowship with the imf ruitful works 



IN THE CHIMNEY CORNET? 193 

of darkness. And if I must tell you the truth, I care nothing 
what steps you take, for I feel the fire of God's love burning in 
my soul, while writing Glory ! Glory ! ! Wlien I turn my eyes 
towards you, it looks like midnight darkness, while the candle 
of the Lord shines upon ms." 

Hardly had the Mormon heresies ceased to disturb, when 
a new cause of disquietude arose. The Millerites, in order to 
disseminate their principles, were holding meetings all over the 
country. Their leader, after careful study of the Old Testa- 
ment prophesies, believed that the time for their fulfillment had 
arrived, and that the end of the world was near. There is 
still preserved in town one of the tiny slips of paper distributed 
here at that time. Upon it is printed this inscription : 

"How long shall be the vision? Unto 2,300 days. Then 
shall the sanctuary be cleansed. * * * Dan. VIII 13, 14. 
Began B. C. 457, ends in 1843." 

In a private journal, one of our citizens thus records his 
own experiences: 

"In 1843 began the great Millerite excitement. Every- 
body was talking about the destruction of the world which Wil- 
liam Miller was predicting would happen that year. This beau- 
tiful world was surely going to be burned up, and the Judgment 
Day would soon be here. Miller was going to preach at Chicopee 
Falls, and I, with other South Hadley people, went down to 
hear him. He preached in a large tent, which was full of hear- 
ers, and as it was a hot day, he preached in his shirt sleeves. He 
was a lai"ge, stout man, and of course felt the heat. I do not 
remember many particulars of his discourse, but it was excit- 
ing. 'Many believed on him there.' A collection was taken to 
pay expenses, and 'for the good of the cause.' People were 
urged to give something if they had no money — I saw rings, 
earrings, and other articles contributed. Before the meeting 
groups of men could be seen discussing the subject, quoting from 
the Bible, and scaring us youngsters. All that year and after- 
wards, I could not see the sky red without fearing the end of 
the world was at hand. Once I drove two seminary girls to 
visit in Brimfield. When we reached Ludlow, it was red in the 



194 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

south, and a shower came up, and, oh ! how frightened we were. 
We stopped at a farm house and begged to be allowed to stay 
over night. The next morning we started early; the clouds in 
the east were red- and my scare continued. The girls were older 
than I and probably had a little more sense. We arrived safely 
at Brimfield, stayed a day or two, and got back to South Had- 
ley, with the world still on top." * * * The record closes 
with these words: "They had been taught by the Bible and 
the preachers that the world was surely going to be burned up 
sometime, and they did not know but it might be then. It is not 
strange that some ceased trying to lay up treasures on earth, 
stopped sowing and reaping, gave their lands away, and made 
their ascension robes." 

The events referred to in the last paragraph made some 
changes in the town. Several of its citizens, in order to prove 
the sincerity of their belief in Millerism, sold their farms for a 
few dollars, and were afterwards compelled to become day labor- 
ers in order to support themselves and their families. Finally 
a part of them went West, where it was said land was so cheap 
it was almost to be had for the asking, and they thus succeeded 
in retrieving their fortunes. 

During the summer of 1843, whenever the setting sun went 
down in a flood of crimson light, people were wont to assemble in 
the Old Cemetery, with the thought that they would be found 
upon consecrated ground. Some brought their ascension robes 
with them. These were usually white, and were made long like 
a riding skirt. One South Hadley girl confided to her school- 
mates the fact that, unknown to her mother, she had run a gath- 
ering string through the hem of her ascension robe, so that when 
she was taken up through the air she could draw it closely be- 
neath her feet. 

Evening meetings for prayer and discussion of the sub- 
ject were held from house to house, though the prank of two 
mischievous boys made a slight interruption. One of the breth- 
ren usually had much to say about Gabriel's trumpet which 
would announce the dissolution of all things. One night a 
roguish boy climbed to the apex of the roof, and standing close 



IN THE CHIMNEY CORNER 19o 

to the chimney of the house where the meeting was to be held, 
stood waiting ready to blow a tin horn when the signal should 
be given. Round his wrist was tied one end of a long cord, the 
other end being in the hand of his accomplice, who lurked below. 
After a time, nothing having been said in regard to the Angel 
Gabriel, one man, in loud exhortation, told his auditors that 
"The end of the world draweth nigh." An instant after the 
blast of the horn was heard, and the men sprang to their feet, 
while the women screamed. In the confusion that ensued the 
boys escaped without discover)'. 

The influence of this doctrine remained in town for years. 
Clouds flaming with scarlet hues would send the frightened 
children home from berrying excursions. But after a time 
tranquillity was again restored, and matters went on in the old 
way. 

In 1825 the old soldiers of the Revolution (many of whom 
still remembered the battle of Bunker Hill) were made thrice 
welcome in every chimney corner. For the Marquis de Lafay- 
ette, who was then on a visit to this country, had been invited 
to lay the cornerstone of the monument which now marks the 
site of that memorable battle. 

It was learned that the French General, on his way from 
Albany to Boston, would pass through Northampton and South 
Hadley. His progress through the state was a triumphal march, 
towns and cities vying with each other in the splendor of their 
ovations. No courier having been sent in advance to announce 
his coming, there was in South Hadley but brief time for prepa- 
ration. It was known that in order to reach Boston on the 16th 
of June, he must be in Belchertown by the evening of the 14th. 
Therefore everyone knew that on Tuesday, at the latest, the 
Friend of America would honor this town by passing through it. 
Yoimg and old were up at dawn, luncheon baskets were packed, 
flower beds despoiled of their choicest treasures, and the ad- 
dress of welcome prepared for the occasion was rehearsed for 
the last time. Before noon a motley procession was en route for 
Rock Ferry. In the van were ox carts with layers of clean straw, 
upon which the children were huddled, while the father and 



inn IX OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

mother were enthroned upon the driver's seat. At intervals 
came the long farm wagon, drawn by a span of horses, and 
filled with young people, who flaunted showy banners of wel- 
come. The elite of the town started a little later in their chaises 
and high-topped narrow carriages, one of which had formerly 
belonged to a Governor of Massachusetts. 

Four years earlier the men of this vicinity had determined 
that a house should be placed on the summit of Mt. Holyoke, 
and for this purpose they planned to have a Building Bee on 
the anniversary of the Battle of Bunker Hill. In 1821, the 17th 
of June came on Sunday, and they were accordingly obliged to 
postpone the matter until the following day. On Monday morn- 
ing, therefore, they appeared with boards, nails- and the neces- 
sary tools. The corner posts and larger timbers of the house 
were then cut down and hewn near the site previously selected. 
This first house could be approached only by persons on horse- 
back or on foot. The horses trained to mountain, climbing could 
thread the narrow pathway as far as the last steep ascent. From 
here people must pull themselves up by catching hold of the 
branches of trees, or the young saplings that bordered the path. 
It was decided to escort Lafayette to the Mountain House, in 
order to show him the beautiful valley of the Connecticut, which 
lay like a panorama below. Mrs. Abby Wright Allen of South 
Hadley had written seven verses commencing: 
"Great Friend of Mankind, 
Honored Guest of the Nation," 
and this poem was to be recited by a number of little boys while 
the General partook of refreshments. He could choose from the 
following list: 

'Choice Jamaica Spirits. 

"St. Croix Rum. 

"Cogniac Brandy. 

"Holland Gin. 

"Cherry Rum. 

"Brandy. 

"Spanish Segars, with other refreshments generally de- 
sired." 




.r..,:.,^^»m^,t,»^ 



■Tui'; oi,i) si.KKiir 



IX THE CHIMNEY CORNER 197 

At two o'clock in the afternoon Lafayette left Northampton 
attended by a military escort from that place. Reaching the 
Connecticut River, he crossed at Rock Ferry, and when his car- 
riage drove from the boat he found the townspeople waiting to 
strew flowers along his pathway. They saw before them a pair 
of eloquent brown eyes, that seemed to look you through and 
through, while above them was not the silvery locks of old age, 
l)ut a wig of dark hair. His long and slender hands were still 
delicate, though his face was that of a man in health and 
strength. The grace and courtesy of his manners while bowing 
from right to left, as the carriage passed, won for him a lasting 
place in the memory of those who saw him. 

At the turn of the road a committee of reception were watch- 
ing his approach in order to extend to him an invitation to visit 
tlie mountain. But it was now nearly the middle of the after- 
noon, and young girls dressed in white were already lined up 
on the Belchertown Common awaiting his arrival ; there was no 
time left for even a short excursion. 

An eye witness in describing the scene ended with the sor- 
rowful words: "The General's carriage turned south and was 
soon lost to view." 

For many years after this all needful supplies for the little 
Mountain House were conveyed up the narrow bridle path by a 
single horse. The water was brought up in India rubber sacks, 
each one holding five gallons ; these were placed in canvas pan- 
niers and fastened across the back of the horse. In 1851 a wagon 
road was constructed up to the summit and a new two-story 
house erected a little north of the former one. The timbers for 
this building were drawn up by teams, and it sometimes needed 
two yoke of oxen and a pair of stout horses in order to carry a 
load lip the steep pitches. Three years later a single track 
railroad was built up the last ascent; it had a "length of 600 
feet and a rise of 365." The car used on this track was made 
from the bodies of two sleighs, fitted together to form its main 
part. ' ' This was propped up in a horizontal position at an angle 
to the car truck, which ran parallel to the rails. A single rope 
was attached to the upper end, and a horse beneath the house 



198 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

furnished the motive power." As this was a new idea (being 
probably the first railway of its kind in the world), there were 
crowds of visitors, even from great distances. When the car 
rolled up the steep ridge, not far from the summit, a view of 
surpassing beauty met the eye. Finally "the car and its occu- 
pants came up through an opening in the base of the Mountain 
House and stopped just when the body of the old sleigh was 
even with the floor." 

Near the foot of Mount Holyoke, but a little farther south, 
lay one of the town's first ferries, which was established by the 
County Court in 1755. Its landing was close to the palisades in 
Hockanum, and from this fact it derived its name "Rock 
Ferry." J. G. Holland, who in his youth was for a time assist- 
ant ferryman, has described the view from the summit of 
Holyoke in these words : 
"At my feet 

The ferry boat, diminished to a toy. 

With automatic diligence conveyed 

Its puppet passengers between the shores 

That hemmed its enterprise; and one low barge 

With white, square sail, bore northward languidly, 

The slow and scanty commerce of the stream." 

A. M. Lyman, a grandson of Israel Lyman, the ferryman, 
states in his letter that the latter "carried on quite a business 
in connection with a large farm, including the running of the 
ferry, a broom and shoe shop, tannery, still, etc. Situated be- 
side the river were about forty acres of fine meadow land, which 
has since been washed away. The road from Rock Ferry to 
Hockanum was called Gate Hill. In old times there was a fence 
on the town line in order to keep the cattle, that everyone in 
Hadley turned loose to pasture, from straying over the line. A 
gate was kept near the Hockanum burying ground, and every- 
one that passed that way must open and close it. On Sundays 
and holidays, boys tended this gate." 

Across the present highway there existed at this time a 
barrier of rocks called the mountain wall, which made even a 





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PASS HF TlllOli.NK il'YI.Ah; 




■I' III: I'KANK'I.IX S'lN >\l': 



IN THE CHIMNEY CORNER 199 

rude cart track impossible. The road was thus compelled to 
make a wide circuit, running northwest of Eugene Lyman's 
house. Israel Ljnnan determined to remedy this evil. The let- 
ter continues: "Grandfather and his boys, with the help of 
the neighbors, cut the road through the rocks. It was done for 
the most part by building fires upon the surface of the rock, and 
when well heated, pouring on cold water, thus taking off a little 
at a time." This opening, then wide enough for a wagon to pass 
through, was a favorite resort of the seminary girls, who named 
it the Pass of Thermopylae. It was then described as having 
"a high rock ledge on one side, and a good-sized cliff on the 
other." But our town fathers have long ago sacrificed beauty 
to utility; djTiamite and blasting powder have done their work 
well, and now only memory or a vivid imagination can replace 
the former romantic grandeur of the spot. 

In the front rank of those who climbed Mt. Holyoke on the 
day when General Lafayette passed through South Hadley was 
doubtless the President of the Lazy Men's Court. This was a 
society which had its beginning on Hadley street, then known 
only as "Lubber's Hole." It was not the object of this organ- 
ization to inculcate habits of industry, but quite the reverse. 
All members who were guilty of any unnecessary exertion were 
punished by fines, and each was expected to report any case of 
this kind that might come under his own observation. A single 
instance of the method of conducting their sessions will suffice. 
One of the members was accused of having run violently down 
the hill leading from the park to the house of Samuel Judd, now 
owned by F. A. Loomer. The point of the story is lost in the 
telling, for the steep pitch which at that time led from the vil- 
lage is unrecognizable in the graded hill of to-day. After the 
testimony of the witnesses had been taken, the judge asked the 
offender in a stern voice what excuse he could offer why judg- 
ment should not be pronounced against him. He replied that tlie 
facts as stated were true, but he found it was harder to stop 
than to keep on running, and so carried out the principles of the 
society. His discharge was immediately ordered. The next 
■culprit, having attempted on a warm summer's day to jump 



200 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

across the brook near-by, missed the farther bank and fell back 
into the water. When permitted by the judge to speak in his 
own defense he asserted that he had broken none of the rules 
of the order. "It was a sultry day and I wanted to sit in the 
water in order to keep cool. It is my privilege to choose such a 
place for myself if I find it contributes to my comfort, and no 
man has a right to interfere." "True, true," murmured the 
judge, "let his fine be remitted." 

Aged people frowned upon these frivolities, and shook their 
heads at the attempt to introduce the burning of charcoal as a 
means of heating the South Hadley houses. They said it was 
not much like the olden days ; then every week a horse dragged 
into the kitchen a big backlog, so heavy that they could hardly 
roll it into the fireplace. But the dear old grandmother, sitting 
in the chimney corner, whispered softly to herself, "Old times 
are always best." 



CHAPTER ELEVENTH 

SOUTH HADLEY FALLS 

HISTORIANS tell us that the first navigable canal iu the 
United States was situated in that i^art of South Iladley 
originally called Taylor's Field. It was begun during the 
first decade after the Revolution, and soon impressed its name 
upon the thriving little settlement at its base, which was for 
nearly half a century known as the Canal Village. It was looked 
upon as a wonder, being between two and three miles in length, 
and a portion of it is still visible from the Head Road, a highway 
so named because it skirted the head of the canal. 

Visitors flocked from far and near to see this new method 
of diverting a part of the river for the purpose of conveying 
boats past the rapids. The well-to-do farmers came on horse- 
back, their wives sitting on pillions behind them, while the poor 
yeomanry rode in ox carts. At rare intervals a two-wheeled 
chaise appeared, from which looked forth the serious face of 
some neighboring minister, but the proudest equipage of all 
was the long wagon with paneled sides, wherein the young peo- 
ple disported themselves. It was called a Thoroughbrace, and 
had no springs, the body being suspended by leather straps. 
It jolted over the rough roads most unmercifully, but little cared 
they. 

All found it a most attractive spot. The towpath beside the 
canal was fringed with lofty sycamores, and towering maples, 
dotted here and there with hemlock green. Their lower branches 
were festooned with sprays of wild clematis, and the clinging 
tendrils of the frost grape. In every crevice where they could 
find a foothold, red and yellow honeysuckles were nodding to 
the ferns, while above them, later on, the bittersweet would do 
its best to replace their lively hues. 

It was easy work towing through the canal, requiring but 
a single horse and its driver, while in order to bring boats up 
the river from Willimansett to the foot of the South Hadley 
Falls, it was necessary to use in addition several pairs of oxen. 



202 IX OI.D SOUTH ITADLEY 

Freshets and other leveling processes of nature have al- 
ready filled up a great part of the canal. 

For more than half a century before the establishment of 
this new waterway, boards, lumber, and sometimes produce, had 
been brought down from Northampton and Hadley upon rafts, 
or freight boats, and were landed at the mouth of Stony Brook. 
From here they were carted across the fields to a point just be- 
low the free bridge. 

This trespass upon private lands aroused violent opposi- 
tion on the part of the owners, who perhaps failed to consider 
that if the circuitous highways already laid out were followed it 
would lead them through South Iladley Center, thus more than 
doubling the distance. From this cause arose the most bitter 
animosities between neighbors. One of the first innkeepers in 
Falls Woods, a bustling, energetic man, combined the three 
offices of cai^tain, landlord and teamster. 

One day in December, 1744, wishing to drive across the field 
of an impetuous young man, who owned a large section of land 
in this region, the Captain began taking down the fence in order 
to obtain an entrance. This action being seen by the owner, 
he was promptly ordered to desist. An exciting contest ensued, 
a contest which was not wholly confined to words. The matter 
was carried before the Church, the usual tribunal for adjusting 
such cases. 

Public opinion seemed to favor the land owner, and it was 
expected that the Captain would make a public confession, but 
nothing was farther from his intentions. He was recorded as 
having been ' ' Guilty of a breach of gospel rule, in his violently 
pulling down, or attempting to pull down, the fence in order 
to force his way through with his team." 

The matter was kept in abeyance until the following June, 
when the Captain called an ex-parte council at his own exjDense. 
The ministers came in the afternoon and were ready to begin 
work at about six o 'clock the next morning. Notice of this meet- 
ing had been given out on the previous Sabbath, and all mem- 
bers of the church were invited to be present. This being the 



SOUTH HADLEY FALLS 203 

very busiest season of the year, there was likely to be but a 
meager attendance. 

The shrewdness of the Captain was now made manifest, for 
the famous Jonathan Edwards, of Northampton, was a member 
of the council. He had always been a firm friend of the Rev. 
Grindall Rawson, while the land owner was one of the young men 
who about three years before had forcibly dragged our first min- 
ister from his pulpit — possibly the celebrated divine was not al- 
lowed to forget this fact, for certain it is that the verdict of the 
council said decidedly that the church had no right to require a 
public acknowledgment from the Captain. The church was 
compelled to acquiesce in this decision. The Captain was once 
more allowed to partake of the Lord's Supper, and afterwards 
it was made one of our by-laws that "If anj' man communed 
with another, knowing of unchristian conduct on his part, he 
could not afterward complain of him. ' ' 

Ten years later we find the Captain obtaining permission 
by vote of the town to make an agreement "with several per- 
sons to cross their lands with lumber in the Falls Field and 
Taylor's Field." 

Within a few years after these events South Hadley was 
asked by some of the towns north of us to lay out a new road 
through Falls Woods, but little attention was paid to this re- 
quest. 

In 1766 the selectmen offered to give William Taylor three 
pounds if he would make and maintain a good cart bridge over 
Buttery Brook, near its mouth, he agreeing to keep the same in 
good repair for ten years. 

It is claimed that North Main street was the first highway 
laid out in that part of the town, and for nearly a century it 
was known as the Carrying Way, because it was the one used 
for the transportation of lumber. 

In the early times the leading industry of South Hadley 
Falls was the fisheries. Every spring thousands upon thousands 
of shad, salmon and bass came up from the ocean and ascended 
the Connecticut River, sometimes as far as Vermont. Shad were 
at first so plentiful they were either sold at a cent apiece or 



204 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

thrown back into the river, and eating them was looked upon as 
the badge of poverty. 

An old gentleman once told the author that when he was a 
boy his family used them as an article of food and sometimes 
sent him out to catch them, but he was so much ashamed of his 
errand that if he saw anyone coming he hid the shad among 
the bushes. There was one place, however, where they were 
most certainly welcome. 

During the Eevolutionary "War our town sent to the army its 
full quota of beef and pork, and we are told that during their 
season himdreds of shad were barreled and forwarded to an 
appreciative soldiery. 

Salmon were looked upon as a more valuable species of 
fish, and we find from the account book of one of our old school 
teachers that in 1762 he paid for them at the rate of two pence 
per poimd. 

Since there was always a dearth of fresh meat in the sum- 
mer time, every man was expected to have in his cellar one 
barrel of salt pork, two of corned beef, and a keg of salt salmon. 

The shad and salmon were caught in what were called sweep 
nets, which often were three or four hundred feet in length. 
These meshes were usually five inches square in order that the 
small fishes might escape. The method of using this net is thus 
described by an old fisherman: 

"Swinging out from the bank in their boat, the four men 
who drew the net went straight out for about twenty rods, 
then turning almost at right angles they went down stream about 
ten rods more, and then swung again toward shore. 

"All this time the hurrying current was carrjang along the 
net, and the fish, which had been seeking the upper waters of 
the river, found themselves suddenly fenced in. Shouting to 
the shoreman to keep his end of the net steady, the men in the 
boat set toward the shore until the net took on the shape of the 
letter 'U.' 

"The men in their hurry to haul in jumped into the shal- 
low water near the bank, and holding down the lead line as well 



SOUTH HADLEY FALLS 205 

as they could, grasped the dripping network with its living 
freight and pulled it ashore." 

During the late springtime one of the favorite evening 
amusements at the Canal Village was going eeling. The 
lampreys came up the river with the salmon and shad, but they 
could ascend the rapids more easily than other kinds of fish. 
They would dart suddenly forward, then by means of their curi- 
ously-shaped mouths and power of suction, attach themselves to 
a rock, where they remained suspended until sufficiently rested 
for a second effort. This process being several times repeated 
brought them to the head of the falls. They were deemed mi- 
welcome intruders, for their clinging mouths made them a men- 
ace to other fishes larger than themselves. As an article of food 
they were generally despised in South Hadley, though in towns 
away from the river they were sometimes valued. 

A brief description of one of these excursions through the 
rapids at South Hadley Falls will perhaps give some idea of its 
difficulties. Landlord Smith had offered to take one of his guests 
eeling with him. 

"All was ready at last and Smith, having placed his lan- 
tern upon a box for a beacon, pushed off the boat. A sudden 
curve of the river at this point formed quite an eddy, where 
the still water contrasted strangely with the rushing current in 
the channel. Into this current they pushed the boat, heading it 
carefully up the stream and keeping as near the shore as pos- 
sible. Then began the struggle. AVith poles in hand they stood 
opposite one another, the landlord being on the river side, and 
pushed with might and main. The noise of rushing water al- 
lowed no conversation had the labor of poling given time, but 
Davis now and then heard his companion shouting some unin- 
telligible words of caution or encouragement. 

"After a time they came under a steep bank which rose 
fifteen or twenty feet from the water. Passing this in their 
toilsome course, they reached at length a large rock which sloped 
to the water's edge and glistened in the moonlight. Just north 
of this rose another, higher and steeper, which projected into 



206 IN OLD SOUTH HADLF.Y 

the river. The boat was pushed into the little eddy below this 
rock and their goal was reached. 

"The tavernkeeper having fastened the boat, said: 'There, 
Mr. Davis, is what I call my pork barrel. The Simsbury and 
Suffield folks swap pork even for them, barrel for barrel. If 
you want to see something to surprise you, look here!' and he 
pointed with proud satisfaction to the lower side of the rock. 
Davis looked as desired, and at first could make nothing of the 
strange spectacle. 

"On the surface of the rock, along its whole circuit, brown 
and white streamers, one or two feet in length, were fastened 
by one end to the rock. Not one dozen nor dozens, but hun- 
dreds of them, so thick together that no pressure could crowd 
them closer. 

"The tavernkeeper having enjoyed for a moment his guest's 
astonishment, said, with proud significance, 'Them's lampers.' 
'But what are they doing there?' asked Davis. 'Why, they are 
laj^ng up for the night, gone to bed and asleep like other honest 
folks. You see, they have been following the shad around all 
day, sucking up the spawn where it is laid in the soft sand, and 
at night they just catch hold of a rock and go to sleep ; this ap- 
pears to be a favorite place for them.' 

"By this time Smith had thrown ot¥ his coat, rolled up his 
sleeves, and put on a pair of coarse mittens. Kneeling in the 
bottom of the boat, he reached over both hands and, grasping an 
eel in each, threw them behind him into the boat. * * * 

"The boat having been loaded and loosened, was brought 
close under the rock and the order given to push off. Davis' 
vigorous push sent them well into the stream before the current 
seized them. # * * gut the most skillful will sometimes 
slip, and it is not therefore to be wondered at that when the 
boat was swiftly approaching the head of the island nearest the 
shore, as Mr. Smith stepped hastily to one side his foot slipped 
and threw him into the river with his cargo in close company. 
When, like an ancient river god, he had risen from his watery 
bed, he found that he had been swept around immediately in 
front of the fish house. His pole came thump against him, and, 



SOUTH HADLEY PALLS 207 

with its assistance, he waded ashore. As he reached land he 
saw Davis drawing the boat up on the beach, and made his way 
through the coarse grass and willows to the spot." 

The lampreys continued to reach the upper level above 
the falls until about the middle of the last century. Being such 
expert climbers, they were able to ascend the new fishway, a 
feat impossible for shad, as was discovered later on. 

As late as 1848, parties of men from Connecticut came an- 
nually to the Canal Village, boarding at the house of the Widow 
Judd, and remaining sometimes two weeks or more for the pur- 
pose of eeling. 

Early in the nineteenth century numberless sturgeons de- 
cided to spend the summer in Vermont or Massachusetts, and 
passed this town in their ascent of the Connecticut Kiver. They 
were a large, coarse fish, often eight or ten feet in length, and 
so tough they were considered unfit for food. But we read that 
in 1809 Tom Chandler, an eccentric and independent person, 
"took home some sturgeon to eat, being the first man among 
those acquainted with the circumstances who ever tried the ex- 
periment. ' ' 

Later the fashion penetrated to the Canal Village, and a 
fish pound, or sturgeon coop, was installed. When the water 
in the river was low a semi-circular wall of stones was built with 
an opening left at the center for the entrance of the fish. A line 
of upright timbers was placed at intervals across this opening, 
leaving room for the sturgeon to enter between them. This huge 
trap was baited with their favorite kinds of food, and when once 
within its enclosure the fish were apt to swim around and around 
without noticing the means of escape. 

A well-known lawyer, whose boyhood and youth were spent 
in South Hadley Falls, used to tell how one Sunday morning 
word was brought that a school of sturgeon had entered the 
pound. People flocked to the shore and the fishermen decided 
that since they had come in on the Lord's Day, they should be 
given to the villagers. Reverence for the Sabbath would not 
permit them to be taken out until the following day. In the 
meantime there was some danger of their escape, but the minis- 



208 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

ter bade them trust in the Lord and He would give them the 
desire of their hearts, and the next morning found his words 
verified, for the fish had remained in the pound. 

About 1800 a society was organized and christened the 
United Enterprise Fishing Company. After a time, however, it 
was said that many of the members did not live up to their name. 
It was charged that in the morning they were usually late at the 
wharves, and that after each haul they took a long rest, on the 
plea that they must wait for the fish to collect in the eddies. This 
led some facetious individual to recall the words of Solomon, 
"Go to the ant, thou sluggard, consider her ways and be wise," 
and he named them the Old Sluggard Company, a title which 
clung to it throughout the rest of its existence, yet its members 
were not inactive, the most energetic one being appointed sales- 
man and occupying a box upon the beach. 

No sooner were the fish landed than they were disposed of 
to the crowd of waiting jjurchasers. Salmon were in great de- 
mand, the supply being far less plentiful than during the pre- 
ceding century. Shad also had increased in price, being sold in 
1816 at ten cents apiece. They so greatly outnumbered all other 
kinds of fish it was made a rule that if a man purchased a twelve- 
pound salmon he must also buy twelve shad, or the bargain 
would not be closed. 

Another sluggard, who was considered a good accountant, 
was placed in charge of the bar at the old fish house. The 
latter was an unpainted, one-roomed structure, standing near 
the junction of the Beach Road and the highway leading to 
Granby. Across the beams within this old fish house were 
placed oars, poles and boat hooks, while one side of the room 
was piled with nets and other fishing gear. Upon the opposite 
side stood the bar, a rough wooden counter stretched across the 
corner. Eeady at hand were toddy stick and flip iron, with mug, 
bowl, pitcher and glass to be used when needed. The wall be- 
hind the counter served as day book and ledger, for upon it 
was written daily each man's account. The fishermen were not 
paid until the end of the season, but at that time all indebtedness 
would be canceled. 



SOUTH HADLEY FALLS 209 

Sometimes the sluggards, between the hauls of their long 
sweep net, manned a boat in order to ascend the rapids with 
their scoop nets. This was somewhat dangerous, but was gener- 
ally attended with success, and the boat returned well laden. 

At the close of the day's work the last boatload was re- 
tained for the use of the sluggards, the division of which was 
effected in the following manner: One of their number was 
blindfolded and the fish were placed in as many piles as there 
were men to share them. The blindfolded man was then led to 
each pile and named the person to whom it should be assigned. 
This was looked upon as a very honest and impartial method 
of division. 

As Hartford and the towns lower down established fisheries 
of their own, the number of shad and salmon that ascended the 
river to the Canal Village became less, and it was thought best 
to build fishing wharves near the present site of the Free Bridge. 
These wharves, some half dozen in number, were artificial 
islands made of timbers and huge stones; they were wedge- 
shaped, a hundred feet in length, and were placed one hundred 
feet apart, and parallel to the shore. The freshets soon gave 
them a coating of soil sufficient to sustain a scanty vegetation, 
coarse grass and stunted willows. From these points of van- 
tage the old sluggards, armed probably with long poles, friglit- 
ened back the fish that were seeking to enter the rapids, thus 
making them an easy prey to the men below. 

Portions of these old wharves are .still visible near the 
bridge in low water. 

In apple-blossom time, the Canal Village was a busy spot 
with throngs of people passing to and fro, but in winter the 
spirit of repose seemed to have fallen upon the little hamlet. 
When the Connecticut was well fettered with ice and snow, ox 
teams from Hadley would call at some house near the landing 
to inquire if it were safe to cross the river with a load on their 
way to Springfield. The housekeeper could always give a 
prompt reply to this question. A basin of milk was kept in front 



210 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

of the buttery window, and until that became solid to the very 
bottom of the dish the ice bridge was looked upon as unsafe. 

The long winter evenings were spent by the men of the 
village round the big fireplaces in the taverns. Here they re- 
lated to one another their experiences in hunting and fishing, 
and a vivid imagination must have stood sponsor for some of 
these tales. Or perhaps they told stories about witches and 
ghosts, incited thereto by reports of a new Witch Hole dis- 
covered in the Slipe, a hole so deep that the longest pole could 
not touch the bottom, but would be drawn down by some in- 
visible power till it disappeared from sight. Geological kettles 
and quicksands were not at that time as well understood as they 
now are. 

Among the chaos of tales that have survived the years, one 
ghost story was deemed more authentic than any other of its 
kind. It was thus told by an old resident: 

"You see, just after old Elder Pendleton gave the burying 
ground to the Baptists, there was a fellow with a mighty fine 
horse put up one night at Colonel Lambie's tavern. Before he 
had finished his supper, along comes the High Sheriff, and claps 
onto him for horse stealing. Well, it was too late to take him 
off to Northampton jail that night, so they waited until morn- 
ing. But before morning he had taken poison and died. So he 
was the first person that was buried there. Some fellows who 
have been along the river dark nights have seen him streaking 
along the bank on horseback, looking over his shoulder as if he 
was followed. When he gets to Catamount Hollow, he puts up 
the brook into the woods. I never seen him myself." 

At the outset the fishermen's tales generally liad some foun- 
dation in fact. An old sluggard would describe the manner in 
which a salmon ascended the dam. At the first trial it failed. 
Then it went down stream and came back for a fresh attempt, 
which would almost enable it to accomplish the feat. But fail- 
ing in this, it went still further back, and swimming rapidly up 
stream, with the momentum thus acquired, it leaped upward, 



SOUTH HADLEY FALLS 211 

clearing the dam by several feet, and calmly proceeded on its 
way northward.* 

As the evening waned, the stories grew more and more im- 
probable, till the climax was reached when some ancient fisher- 
man told how his grandfather said that in Eevolutionary days 
the shad were so thick in the river during the month of May that 
one day, wishing to cross to the island, and not being able to 
find a boat, he borrowed a pair of snow shoes and walked safely 
over upon the backs of the fishes. 

Nor were the fabled exploits of our hunters less marvelous. 
The cornfields of South Hadley had been devastated by crows 
and blackbirds. The former, instead of migrating, spent their 
winters on the south side of Mount Tom, and were invariably 
present at the first planting. They bade open defiance to the 
ragged effigies that had added to the English vocabulary the 
word "scarecrow," and continued to ravage the crops till the 
town in despair offered as bounty a certain fixed sum for the 
old crows and a smaller amount for the younger ones. This gave 
rise to so much controversy in regard to the dividing line be- 
tween the two classes that a committee was appointed in order to 
settle these claims. 

The favorite boast of the hunters was that upon one occa- 
sion a young man saw twelve of these thieves sitting side by 
side on the branch of a large tree. Taking careful aim, he sent 
a charge of shot which split the bark of the branch lengthwise. 
The concussion widened the cleft for an instant, just long enough 
for the startled birds to spread their wings for flight, but clos- 
ing quickly enough to make them prisoners, their toes being 
held firmly in the bark of the tree. The storyteller probably 
closed with the same statement as a former narrator, that he had 
not himself witnessed the sight. 



♦The salmon has the power of swimming with great velocity; of stemming 
rapid rivers, and of jumping over dams and waterfalls of considerable height. 
It has been known to spring fourteen feet out of water, and to describe a curve 
of at least twenty feet in order to surmount a cascade. If not successful at 
first, it perseveres until it succeeds, unless the obstruction is insurmountable." 
— Appleton's Condensed Encyclopedia, page 520. 



312 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

About 1830 a company was organized, and steamboats built, 
for the navigation of the Connecticut. These boats were from 
sixty to ninety feet in length, and were capable of carrying a 
hundred persons, though they seldom had that number of pas- 
sengers. They were towed through the canal at South Hadley 
Falls, on their way to and from Greenfield.* They were very 
narrow, being on the average but fifteen feet wide; this led a 
facetious passenger to remark that he always kept on the middle 
of the deck lest the boat should tip over. The cabin might have 
been fitted up for Tom Thumb, it was so small, but the little 
turkey-red curtains hanging loosely at the windows gave the 
one touch of brightness to the dingy place. The engines were 
crude affairs and not to be relied upon in these primitive steam- 
boats ; they had neither steam nor water gauges, and the safety 
valves often proved uncertain. The engineers sometimes pat- 
ronized the bar, which was to be found in every boat. Only one 
accident is reported as having taken place in our waters. A 
steamboat near Smith's Ferry, whose safety valve had been tied 
down, exploded its boiler, killing three men. The boats were 
painted white and are said to have always been kept spick and 
span. Charles Dickens, in his American Notes, writes of them 
as being "Half a pony power." Yet in going from Springfield 
to Hartford, they sometimes reached the latter place in half the 
time consumed by the stage coach. They had no coal for their 
engines, but yellow pine wood was cut into lengths of three 
feet each, and piled at intervals near the shore, where the steam- 



*Mr. George Lamb of South Hadley Falls writes: "These boats were of 
the stern-wheel type, which so disturbed the water as to wash and damage the 
canal bank. To overcome this difficulty, there were numerous inventions, which, 
however, did not prove practical. 

"Luther Alvord, a resident of Falls Woods, contrived a very ingenious 
device for a canal boat propeller, having a small model that he operated at the 
mouth of Stony Brook. It was considered very ingenious, but too complicated 
to be adopted. 

"Another model was built by a man named Durkins, of the 'New City' 
(now Holyoke). He had a device for propellers opening and spreading against 
the water, backward and forward, like the feet of a duck. The trial of this boat 
did not prove a success, and it was finally towed back into the canal, not being 
able to make progress against the current, and being in imminent danger of 
going over the dam. 

"The swing ferry at the Falls was considered the most prosperous on the 
river, not only in regard to the immense traffic, but also the rapid trips and the 
ease of operation made possible by the strong current." 



SOUTH HADLEY FALLS 313 

boats could load it easily. These boats began running early in 
spring, sometimes even in February, and continued in service till 
the following winter. The last steamboat that ever passed 
through the canal entered it on Thanksgiving day, 1847. George 
Lamb and another boy had gone down intending to skate near 
the head of the canal. As they were testing the strength of the 
ice witli their spike poles, they heard a grinding, cracking sound 
behind them, and looked back to see a boat crushing a path down 
the narrow waterway. It forced its way through the canal, but 
never returned, for the Hadley Falls Company bought the water 
privilege, and the next year built the great dam, whose sorry 
fate is too well known to need repetition. 

The coming of "Lection Day" was, a century ago, a great 
event in South Iladley Falls. Even the glories of Independence 
Day paled before the delights of this annual carnival. The scene 
upon the beach was thus described by a resident of the Canal 
Village : 

"On this day at Springfield, Northampton, and the other 
larger towns, the militia were out for their annual training, but 
take the county through, nowhere could be fovmd a larger 
crowd, or more that was worth seeing, than at the Canal Vil- 
lage. Here were no end of sunburned farmers, wearing knee 
breeches, long waistcoats of homespun, and stout, buckled shoes. 
Hats, low-crowned and broad of brim, shaded their clean-shaven 
faces, and their long queues. The hot sim forced them to carry 
on their arms their short-waisted coats, with broad lapels and 
tremendous swallowtails. Here and there a man appeared in 
his farmyard dress, a long brown frock of undyed tow cloth. 
Rivermen and others who now and then visited Hartford were 
distinguishable by a change in dress. To be sure, it was only a 
lengthening of knee breeches, so as to button at the ankles ; but 
what an absurd name this garment had — 'Pantaloon!' Those 
who wore these pantaloons had a strange way of fastening their 
shoes with strings instead of buckles. How Frenchified every- 
thing was getting! But if the men were comical in their new 
style of dress, what should be said of the women? Just look 
at those dashing young people from Northampton, who set the 



214 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

fasliions for the country round. They were very lively in that 
two-horse wagon, with its brace of double-chair seats. How the 
good wives and daughters from the hill towns, looking out from 
the recesses of their gig-topped calashes, wondered at the little 
helmet-shaped bonnets, or the straw caps with visors, which 
perched upon the frizzled heads of the young women. But those 
criticizing girls from the hills, poor things, probably had noth- 
ing but little bits of looking-glasses at home that did not show 
their red or butternut-colored flannel gowns, tied about the 
waists with black ribbons, and gathered at the necks with green 
ones. There were others in the great concourse besides farmer 
folks, rivermen and dolls of fashion. It was only on Election 
Day at Canal Village that so many curious characters were to 
be seen. 

"Here was a man on horseback with a load of strange-look- 
ing articles behind him, which he was trying to sell. 'Only 
fourpence for a corn broom that will out-sweep and out-last all 
the birch brooms and split brooms in creation. You farmer 
folks had better go home and jilant broom corn. I tell you ihe 
time is coming when the corn broom business will be a bigger 
thing than all your fishing, potashes, and what not. You folks 
had better buy two brooms apiece, and take one home to use 
and the other to keep, so as to remember the first time you ever 
saw a corn broom.' 

' ' Farther on an indigo peddler, stained with his own wares, 
was supplying housewives with provision for their dye tubs. 
Beyond him was a Scotch-Irishman from Pelham, opening his 
pack to exhibit the beautiful linen cloth and thread for which 
his townswomen were rmrivaled. Now came tin peddlers from 
Berlin,* very keen for a trade. 

"Next came another Connecticut man, offering funny little 

•President Dwight of Yale College tells us that tinware was first manufac- 
tured in this country at Berlin, Conn., by William Pattison, in 1740. After the 
Revolution, the business was carried on by young men who had learned the art 
from Mr. Pattison. For many years the only method used by peddlers for con- 
veying tinware to distant towns was by means of a horse with two baskets 
balanced, one upon each side. After the war carts and wagons began to be 
used for this purpose. 



SOUTH HADLEY FALLS 215 

wooden clocks, without cases, and intended to be hung against 
the wall ; wonderfully cheap, only twenty-five dollars, and the 
peddler would take anything in trade. 

"Such were some of the characters that added zest to this 
rare break in the dull uniformity of country life. 

"As fishing had been suspended for the rest of the day, 
some exciting substitute was needed, and arrangements had 
been made for trials of strength and skill. The ground selected 
was at the upper end of the beach. * * * When every pre- 
liminary had been settled, and all boys removed from within the 
lines, official announcement was made of the various prizes. 

"The quoits of rounded stone were first produced, and after 
a long contest, Springfield and Northampton were beaten by 
Hadley. Next came the shooting. A piece of white paper five 
inches square was fastened to a tree for a mark. The marks 
men took their stand fifty yards away. Selden and Smith of 
Hadley, Birge and Alexander of Northampton, and young 
Moody of Granby, all famous hunters, exhibited their skill amid 
great applause. * ♦ * Then came the wrestling match. 
Time will not allow a full account of the 'Indian hug' with which 
Dunham* mastered all opponents, or his discomfiture in the 
running jump by a slim youth from Skipmuck. 

"Next came the lifting. Eobinson of Granville was 
promptly on hand when the trial was called. While he rolled 
up his sleeves, stories of his great strength circulated through 
the crowd, but no one came forward to meet him. He glanced 
scornfully over the assemblage, and called for the man who 
dared try him. A group of men were urging a companion who 
towered a good head above them : ' Go in, Capen, you can whip 
two of him!' 'I guess I can,' answered the Captain, with a 
mellow laugh. Accordingly the good-natured man took him- 
self into the ring, to the great delight of the crowd, for all dwell- 
ers by the river knew what Captain Henry Strong could do. 



*Years before Mr. Dunham had been misled into joining in Shay's Insurrec- 
tion. Later on he reinstated himself In the respect of his fellow townsmen by 
saving the life of Enos Woodbridge (the son of our second minister) on the 
evening when the scattered troops of Daniel Shay raided the town of South 
Hadley. 



216 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

Among the piles of merchandise lay some barrels of cider. Rob- 
inson rolled one of these to the side of a box about four feet 
high, and seizing the barrel at each end, lifted it by sheer 
strength onto the box. The applause which greeted this feat 
gave him time to recover his breath before lifting the barrel 
down again. 'There's your stunt,' said he, wiping the perspira- 
tion from his face. *We rivermen generally take toll on such 
things,' replied the Captain; loosening the bung with a stone 
and placing it upon a clean tuft of grass, the boatman easily 
lifted the barrel to his mouth and took a hearty drink. 'Per- 
haps you'll take a pull,' remarked the Captain, depositing the 
barrel at Robinson's feet. The Granville champion was bound 
to accept the challenge, and fairly earned his drink before he 
succeeded in getting it. In the meantime Captain Strong was 
arranging for another trial. Two strong planks were leaned 
against a pile of timbers ; his friends rolled forward a hogshead 
of molasses, and it lay ready at the foot of the plank. 'We've 
had boy's play, and now we'll try some grown men's work,' 
said the Captain. He bared his arms and rolled the hogshead, 
hand over hand, to the top of the incline. There he held it for 
a moment, while all wondered whether he could possibly 
jump aside in time to escape being crushed when he let go of it. 
But their fears were needless, for he rolled it easily back to the 
ground, and courteously stepped aside to make way for Robin- 
son. The champion, however, declined the trial, saying he was 
no boatman to go rolling things round; what he wanted was a 
clean lift. 'Well,' returned Captain Strong, 'you gave me a fair 
stunt, and I done it. Then I stumped you, and you — well, we'll 
allow you done it. And then I stumped you again, and you 
daresent try; that's all I've got to say now.' At this moment 
word came that Captain Strong's boat was about to enter the 
canal, and he was soon on his way, amid the hearty cheers of the 
crowd." * * * 

"I don't see as there is any great call for girls to spin," said 
a middle-aged visitor, whose white shirt told that he was no 
Hampshire County man. "Down in Rhode Island an English- 
man has a big mill where he uses water to spin with. Land near 



SOUTH HADLEY FALLS 217 

the waterfalls that you could have bought five years ago for a 
hundred dollars an acre is now worth fifteen hundred." "My 
sakes!" exclaimed Smith, "perhaps if they knew of these falls, 
they'd try here. There's water enough, I guess, for the two 
saw mills don't near use it all." "There is a considerable pow- 
erful fall here," allowed the other, "but this is too far west, 
too far from Boston. This will always be a lumbering and fish- 
ing river, I guess. I am not afraid to say there will never be 
such a thing as a cotton mill so far back in the couutry. " 

With the expression of these and kindred sentiments, the 
company left the beach, which had faintly imaged a county fair, 
and in the crowded taverns a good supper and the evening dance 
rounded out the festivities of the day. 

In process of time the number of outside guests at the Canal 
Village lessened, though Election Day was still esteemed a gala 
occasion, and the journey up to South Hadley Center, which 
was then the only polling place, was sometimes a thing worthy 
of note. 

In 1840 a spirited contest arose between the whigs and 
the locofocos, as the Democrats were then called. William 
Henry Harrison was the whig candidate for the presidency, 
and was known as Tippecanoe, on accoi:nt of his having won 
the battle of that name in the war with the Indians. The old 
refrain, "Tippecanoe and Tyler, too," was borne upon every 
wind that swept through the gap in the mountains, and the Falls 
people decided to let the uptown locos see what they could do. 
Accordingly, a short time before election, the men at the Canal 
Village built a long platform, which was placed upon wheels. 
Upon this was erected a log cabin, modeled after the old one at 
North Bend. Through the stove pipe, which did duty for a 
chimney, issued a fine colunm of smoke, as, with ten yoke of 
oxen to draw it, they started for the Center. 

The log cabin was eight feet long, and above its open door 
one could read, "Tippecanoe's door, whose latch string is never 
pulled in." Above the heads of the leading pair of oxen was 
framed a large banner, and the most radical among the whigs 
carried pocket handkerchiefs more than two feet square, upon 



218 m OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

which were imprinted pictures of General Harrison on horse- 
back, the Capitol at Washington, the log house, etc. Concealed 
in one corner of the cabin, as the procession of voters marched 
up the road, was a keg of cider and a huge bag of crackers. 
There was to be an address in the interests of Harrison, and 
his adherents left their cortege east of the meeting house and 
seated themselves in the church, ready to listen to the speaker. 

Under the able leadership of Dexter Ingraham there was 
first an interval of patriotic music that stirred the pulse of every 
whig, but hardly was the address well begun when the locos stole 
softly out of the house. 

Political feeling at this time ran high at the Center, as was 
shown by an incident that occurred here during this campaign. 
"Uncle Sim" and "Uncle Joel," as they were familiarly called, 
were near neighbors, the former being an ardent whig and the 
latter a decided Democrat. One day Uncle Sim, on his way to 
Northampton, overtook his neighbor, also on the road to the 
Meadow City, and invited him to ride. Unfortunately the con- 
versation took a political turn, and after two or three miles 
both men became so excited that Uncle Sim stopped his horse 
and asked his companion to alight. Uncle Joel begged to stay 
in, promising that he would not mention the name of Harrison 
again. "No," replied the other firmly, "my horse is just as 
good a whig as I am, and he refuses to carry you a step farther. ' ' 
So Uncle Joel plodded slowly on to Northampton. His fellow 
politicians, however, did not allow this slight to pass unavenged, 
for after the exercises in the church were finished on that mem- 
orable day, when the whigs repaired to the log cabin for 
refreshment, they found the keg of cider empty, and of the 
crackers only a few crumbs remained. 

But upon the day of Harrison's inauguration, the victori- 
ous whigs had their innings. A brass cannon was brought up 
from Chicopee and stationed upon the beach. A feast was pre- 
pared in the old tavern near the present site of the Glasgow 
Mill, and a series of signals with flags was arranged so that the 
gunner might know when to fire. Captain Calvin Goodman was 
requested to give a toast. He rose gravely and said: "The 



SOUTH HADLEY FALLS 219 

locofoco party: a wheel without a single spoke in it." Then 
the cannon boomed, and the thunders of applause, it is said, 
shook the house to its very lowest foundations. 

After the close of the Revolution, it was said that every 
family in the Canal Village owned either a horse or a yoke of 
oxen, which on Sunday gave them conveyance to the church 
uptown. But as years went on, mills were erected and many of 
the new inhabitants were compelled to walk the long, circuitous 
road through Falls Woods, there being at that time no other 
highway between South Hadley Center and the Falls. Perhaps 
the most welcome of these new industries was the salt mill. 
Previous to this, every family must own an iron mortar and 
pestle, wherein the hard crystals of salt could be pounded to a 
powder. This was wearisome work for the young people, and 
they hailed with delight the "salt house" of Josiah Bardwell, 
which was working in 1824. Here were ground the great lumps 
of salt brought from Nantucket. The late R. 0. Dwight, whose 
value as a historian only those who have studied carefully the 
archives of our town can fully understand, says that at first 
"It was sold in bulk, being weighed out to purchasers as sugar 
is now." Later on a new firm "Introduced an improvement 
by selling their salt in cloth bags, each holding a specified 
weight .... The novelty took at once, and spread from 
South Hadley Falls all over the country." 

About this time Rev. Joel Hayes resigned his pastorate at 
South Hadley, and a call was extended to Rev. Artemus Boies, 
with the proviso that as often as every third Sunday he should 
preach at the Canal Village, taking his congregation with him. 
This seemed to him like having the care of two parishes, and 
being in delicate health, he refused to accept upon such condi- 
tions. He was then invited to become our pastor, but to preach 
only at the Center, and to this call he sent an affirmative reply. 
The dwellers by the river now concluded that it was high time 
for them to start a new organization of their own. They were 
already in the habit of holding prayer meetings in the Canal 
Village, and in 1784 they had asked to have the control of their 
own school money, and it had been granted. The Baptists had 



220 IN OLD SOUTH HADLEY 

commenced a preaching service years before. In 1785 Rev. 
John Pendleton officiated, and four years later Rev. Mr. Dodge 
started a Baptist church. Before 1805 this had been merged 
in the Holyoke church, for at that time South Hadley voted 
"To excuse the Baptists from paying a minister's tax." The 
assessors accordingly sent a portion of that year's taxes to 
Elder Rand. 

In 1824 Rev. Eli Moody began preaching in what was called 
the Brick Chapel. He writes concerning this: "My audience 
room was in the second story, the stairs leading up to it being 
on the outside of the house, and all the accommodation for sit- 
tings was rough plank or slat seats, without any backs to them. 
This room had previously been loaned to the people of the vil- 
lage for religious meetings. In this room I preached three 
months." 

At the expiration of that time the place was arranged with 
"Comfortable pews and a neat and pleasant pulpit." 

At the installation of Rev. William Tyler, in 1832, some 
fears were expressed lest the floor of the Brick Chapel would 
not be strong enough to sustain the weight of the crowd who 
would be present, and the exercises were held in the Ames Paper 
Mill, which was then in the course of erection. 

The first church edifice was built in 1835, and became the 
home of the South Evangelical Society, which had been organ- 
ized eleven years before, and whose original membership of nine- 
teen had been much increased. 

From one of their later ministers, we quote the following: 
"I was your pastor during the Civil "War, and am ine\'itably 
carried back to those eventful times; the thrilling scenes we 
witnessed in this meeting house, when one after another of our 
young men, the flower of our families, came forward and signed 
their names to the roll of volunteers for their country's service. 
I call to mind the gathering of the citizens around the liberty- 
pole on South Hadley Green, when the town clerk read the oath, 
and, with uplifted hands, we all renewed our allegiance to the 
Constitution and Government of the United States ; the camp at 
Greenfield, where I was requested to present a sword to Lieut. 



SOUTH HADLEY FALLS 221 

Williams (of South Hadley) ; the mustering of the young sol- 
diers in the east gallery of this house on the Sabbath before 
their departure, and the words of farewell and Godspeed from 
the balcony of the hotel." 

These words revive the memory of earlier conflicts, the 
French and Indian wars, and the Revolution, when there was 
neither newspaper nor telegraph here, and, only at rare inter- 
vals, a letter to bring news from the battlefield. 

The flight of years has wrought great changes in our town. 
The deathknell of the old-fashioned fireplace was sounded, when, 
in every room save one in that first seminary building, Mary 
Lyon installed a little Franklin stove, which had already begun 
to supersede the big back log. 

Many interesting incidents have been related to the writer 
of the fraternal friendships which existed in families at that 
time. There was the story of the two Smith brothers, who owned 
separate farms, both of which were very large. Every morning 
at sunrise each went to the top of a hill near his home, and the 
elder gave three long blasts upon a horn, which told his listening 
brother that all was well. The younger brother returned hia 
answer in like fashion. The custom was continued for years, and 
at any failure of this signal a messenger instantly was dis- 
patched to the house of the other. 

Now camlet cloak and homespun suit 

No longer flit from door to door. 
Yet patient years have borne their fruit. 

In school, and home, and church of yore. 
Those days remote, long, long are past. 

The empty nest has left the bough, 
A plaything of the whirling blast; 

And moss-grown stones confront us now. 
We reap the harvest of their deeds 
In rustling fields along the lea; 
The fruitage of immortal seeds. 
The golden sheaves of liberty. 
We pray you, birds, sing sweetly there. 

We bid you, flower-grown meads, to show 
At spring's return a bloom so fair 
That our unwilling hearts may know, 
'Tis time that stays, 'tis ive who go. 



INDEX 



Page 

Angel of Hadley, The 4-6 

Apple Trees 12, 97 

Arithmetic 50, 55, 60 

Bears 18 

Bees, Chopping, etc. .18, 35-37, 196 

Bees, Honey 33 

Bible, The. 26, 71, 95, 118, 139, 154 

Bricks 16 

Brick Oven 110 

Brooms 214 

Buttery Brook 9, 203 

Canal, The 201, 213 

Carpets 178 

Census, The 136 

Chairs 87, 175 

Children 25-27 

Children Catechising 172 

Churches, South Hadley Palls. 220 

Clocks 179, 215 

Condit, Rev. Joseph. .62, 119, 170 

Copy Books 61 

Courtship 16, 23 

Crows 211 

Dame School 51 

Deacons 112, 114, 148 

Draper, Josiah 44, 55-57, 153 

Dress 180 

Dwight, Dr. Elihu 175 

Eeling 20.5-207 

Election Day 213, 217 

Emergency Call, An 154 

Examination Day 63 

Fires, Kindling of 177 

Fisheries 202, 203 

Fish House 206, 208 

Forks 22 

Funeral Customs 29-33 

Geography 50, 51 

Goffe, General 4-6 

Halfway Covenant, The. 3, 101, 105 

Harrison's Campaign 217 

Harvard College. 140, 142 

Hanks, Rev. Roswell 79, 91 

Hessians. Farming of 155 



Page 

Highways 14, 180, 203 

Hilliard's Knob 50, 184 

Holland, J. G 24, 198 

Home Lots 8-11 

Houses 11, 15-17, 81 

Hungry March, The 127 

Ice Houses 40, 41 

Independence of the United 

States 152, 164 

Indians, The 121 

Informers, The 55, 66, 143 

Ink 49 

Labor Troubles 157 

Lafayette, Marquis de 195-197 

Land, Divisions of 7-15 

Land Grants 7, 13 

Lexington, Call of 146 

Libraries 182-184 

Lubbers' Hole 8, 199 

Lyon, Mary 75-93 

Matches .'. 178 

Meeting Houses 

94, 95, 114, 115, 119 

Meeting Houses, Seating of .98, 111 

Mighill, Samuel 53-57 

Millerites 193-195 

Missionary Societies 165 

Mobbing 104, 144 

Montague, Peter, Houses of 

.11, 16, 19, 81 

Monnonism 191-193 

Mountain House, The 196 

Mourning 142 

Nails, Making of 158 

Names 158, 185 

Noonhouses 174 

Pantaloons 181, 213 

Parsonages 78, 96, 109 

Pass of Thermopylae 199 

Pendergrass, Peter 147 

Peperidge Tree 21 

Pins 176, 177 

Pioneers 6, 7, 12 

Post Office 41, 148 



Page 

Potatoes 54, 97 

Pouting Pen 114, 117 

Preston, John 15, 33 

Punishments 52-69 

Kate Day Ill 

Eattlesnakes 17 

Eawson, Eev. Grindall 

95-103, 105-107 

Kock Ferry 191, 195, 198 

Salt Mill." 319 

Schools 48-69 

Seminary Mt. Holyoke 79-92 

Seminary Receptions 89 

Shad and Salmon .203-205, 208-210 

Shay's Rebellion 70, 162 

Sickness 112 

Singing 43-47, 83 

Slaves 158, 167-169 

Sleep, Hours of 24 

Sluggard Company 208, 209 

Smith, Chileab . . '. 103-105 

Spelling Schools 64, 65 

Spatterdashes >. 180 

Spinning 19, 20 

Spinning, on Sunday 148 

Stamp Act " 136 

Steamboat 311-213 



Page 

Stoyes 98. 172-174 

Sturgeon 207 

Sunday Schools 166 

Superstitions 30-33, 101 

Taxes 139 

Tea 140-143 

Tea Parties 21 

Temperance 169 

Texts 13, 118, 119, 183 

Tinware 214 

Tories 143, 145, 147, 150, 160 

Tunnel, The 49 

Underground Railroad 169 

Visiting Day 171 

Wages 43, 65, 156, 158 

Warrant, The.'. 141 

Washing Day 21 

Weddings 38, 101 

Witches and Ghosts 186, 310 

Wood Day 109 

Woodbridge, Dorothy 189 

Woodbridge, Enos. .'. .186-189, 215 
Woodbridge, Rev. Jolm 

107-113, 137, 148 

Woodbridge, Col. Ruggles 

...70-73, 117, 141, 146, 155, 162 
Wright, Abby 73-75 



JUN 14 1912 



